


(Revisited) The Moon's Tears

by Arowen12



Series: It's about Time [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen, Kurosaki Ichigo Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rewrite, So I finally followed through on my promises, Time Travel, of the original, warnings for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23313874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arowen12/pseuds/Arowen12
Summary: A look at the original fic four years later, rewrites of the first few chapters and maybe eventually the whole thing. Ichigo deals with a lot of trauma, the consequences of time travel, and people are concerned.
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo & Shiba Kaien
Series: It's about Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676584
Comments: 58
Kudos: 152
Collections: Anime & Manga FFs





	1. Matutine

**Author's Note:**

> Matutine  
> (adj.) Before the dawn.
> 
> I kept saying I would rewrite a lot of the earlier chapters, almost four years later I don’t know if I’ll ever rewrite everything. But in honour of the Bleach anime being picked up here’s what I’ve got so far, it’s the first few chapters but y’all can get an idea of what I was going for hopefully. Maybe one day I’ll finish the rewrite.

X

Kneeling on the harsh ground below him his head hung, Ichigo let tired eyes slide shut. He took a deep breath of air letting the smell of fire and smoke assault his nose as his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Slowly, he opened his eyes once more, taking in the devastating scenery in front of his eyes. The world was in pieces (and saying such was putting the matter at heart lightly). Rubble and debris littered the ground as far as the eye could see, the broken shells of buildings stood alone in the early morning sunlight, glinting a harsh white colour that seemed to drain the world of all it’s vibrancy.

Ichigo let out a sigh, bone weary and empty as he slowly rose from his kneeling position, aching joints and age-old wounds taunting him. He reached out in front of him to firmly grasp Zangetsu’s longer blade for support. The white cloth that wrapped around the handle was a familiar comfort in his calloused hands, where the blade rested firmly entrenched in the earth. It steadied him as he swayed on his feet.

The orange-haired Shinigami let out a bitter laugh as he rose to a straightened position, his muscles protesting the action. Staring at the devastation, the lack of life surrounding him. It was a laugh that reflected his sanity. The state of his being lost to such an intense despair that flooded and combated with a relinquished peace.

Ichigo surveyed the scenery once again, his face as impassive as stone, the thought slowly trickled into his head.

What if…?

No, he acknowledged with an uneasy sway, there was no way to change what had happened, the past was its own in this world. Too much had happened he thought, bitterly recalling what had torn his life away with no fondness. 

The moment Rukia has glided through his window the chains of fate had settled into place, entrapping his soul on the path he now stood at the end of.

At the young age of fifteen, he had charged blindly into a war, one that had stolen his adolescence, and ended with the loss of his powers, and the gain of devastating loss. They had called it the Winter War in some strange mockery of the season, and it had raged and thundered as the megalomaniac seeking the power of the gods, had torn throughout the world.

His defeat had been no victory for Ichigo, the world he had lived and immersed himself in had faded before his eyes. The same world that his friends and family had embraced and welcomed just as much as his own soul.

Dealing with PTSD had never been easy, dealing with it in the quiet shell of the house, quaking in a silent mind and empty halls had been worse.

A semblance of peace had reigned for a year before his life was thrown once again back into chaos by the arrival of Kugo Ginjo. Bringing yet again a new hope and at the same time the knowledge that this was a gamble, a risk he wasn’t sure he was ready to take.

It had all come to fruition and Ichigo had known the outcome from the first moment, betrayal was a second skin he wore well. Soul Society finding a way to give him back his powers had only been a bonus not wholly unexpected.

He had basked in the rush and presence of Zangetsu as his power exploded around him in a brilliant torrent of crashing instincts, and serenity. He may or may not have laughed a tinge crazily in feeling the familiar yet strange power swell inside him.

Fate, cruel mistress she was struck again, and the Quincy invaded and brought with them only death and catastrophe. The first causality had been the Head Captain’s lieutenant; Chōjirō Sasakibe. Ichigo had talked to the lieutenant a few times, tea recipes shared, and the poetry the man harboured like a secret springing up.

The Head Captain was struck down next when he confronted his age-old enemy Juha Bach. Ichigo had raced there in an attempt to stop Bach but he too had been defeated and Zangetsu broken. The world had come to a startling halt as Zangetsu’s presence had once again disappeared almost completely muted. Ichigo had almost collapsed at the feeling that once again overtook him; the overwhelming loneliness that left him gasping in fear and pain.

Everything seemed to rush forward from that point, the Zero squad arrived taking Renji, Rukia, Byakuya, and Ichigo to the Soul King’s Palace where Ichigo struggled for days trying to understand how to regain Zangetsu. Finally, he was sent home where he confronted his dad, it was all finally revealed and everything seemed to click into place.

How one born of three races ended up in the storm that was Soul Society only made perfect sense; Aizen had seen it, and it seemed that Soul Society had an inkling that power of that magnitude wasn’t normal. From there, Ichigo ascended to the Soul Palace and with the knowledge of his powers, he forged Zangetsu anew. The ebony blades glinting in the light of the forge as steam rose up around them.

Training had been a rushed hasty affair, that Ichigo knew would be a gift in the coming slaughter. Maybe it had been age or just personality but in the same fashion he always seemed to muster, he rushed forward intent on ending a war before it struck hard.

Instead, the man who towered like living darkness had used Ichigo’s exit to enter the palace of the Soul King. From there the worlds had spiralled into chaos teetering on destruction, as the lynchpin of the world was killed.

Thus, the three worlds began to crumble as the being who held them together faded. It was only with Jushiro’s sacrifice that they were able to stop the destruction of all three worlds, though they could not stop all of the effects. Juha was sent hurtling down into Soul Society as Ukitake took his final breath letting the worlds be saved if only temporarily.

Kisuke and Mayuri in a moment of foresight (or perhaps learning from the last war) had installed a barrier to stop access to the human world; it was activated but not without the cost of Ururu, Jinta and Tessai’s life.

At the same time, the gates between Hueco Mundo and Soul Society were permanently opened and Hollows, as well as Arrancar, came and went as they pleased causing even further chaos. The war raged for years, Ichigo knew the final count was close to ten years, and yet still they kept fighting.

They were overpowered in a two to one situation, every time they seemed to take a step forward; infusing their Bankai with Hollow reaitsu or resurrecting the Captains that had fallen. They were beaten down once again. In a moment of desperation, Aizen was released from his prison cell in Mugen though it was confusing which side his loyalties truly laid with, he aided them as Ichigo continued to grow in power trying desperately to accumulate enough to defeat Juha Bach.

He had eventually reached a point where it was just the harmony of his soul; balance.

At last, he had stormed forward, speeding over a land of desolation and destruction ready to put an end to the war that lasted far longer than a thousand years. The Quincy, a shade of horror, had laughed at Ichigo when he confronted him and continued to laugh as Ichigo sliced his sword clean through the Quincy King in a sideways arc.

His death was like his presence, explosive as it ripped into the atmosphere, torching the land around the battleground. He coughed up blood with a grisly smile upon his face as he lectured Ichigo about how he could have destroyed the world of fear, taunting Ichigo stating that he was the one who had lost in the end. Finally, the light had dimmed in his eyes and the last of the Quincy vanished from existence.

That’s when Aizen had seen the golden opportunity to kill Ichigo in some last ditched attempt at sparing Ichigo or claiming power. Where once Aizen’s power had transcended that of the Gods, Ichigo felt no challenge as he had considered Aizen’s desolate eyes.

Ichigo had seen the attack for the farce it was, the man had no desire to see the dawn. The wind had echoed hollowly throughout the streets as they charged forward, an echo of the beginning and the end. It was over within a minute as Aizen took a step and faltered before turning to face Ichigo an eerie smile on his face. Soft words of sorrow and apology echoed throughout the silence as Aizen’s body seemed to bubble and shift before lavender reaitsu gathered around the once Shinigami, Aizen fell backwards soft laughter bubbling from his red stained lips. Leaving Ichigo to kneel in the dirt as the reality of the situation dawned on him.

His thoughts had always been on defeating Juha and saving his family and friends. While he may have succeeded in the first respect, he had failed where it truly mattered. He was utterly alone, all the souls in Soul Society had been killed, some had fallen to the Hollows and some were never to rejoin the circle of Rebirth; their very souls had been destroyed. The Arrancar who had aided them during the war were all passed, leaving only a few mindless Hollows who wandered confused throughout the ruins.

The humans were safe. but he had no life there anymore. He was far older both in mind and spirit than any human could understand much less help him. There was no place for him there.

This was his final place of rest, a world crumbled to ruin, a lost cause that he had failed. No longer was there any battle to fight, any souls to save, just the scales of life clattering uselessly against each other.

“Ichigo, you did not fail. You fought with every inch of your being; you are not at fault for the devastation that has befallen you.”

Old man Zangetsu spoke in a calm and soothing voice as his blissfully cool presence washed over him and he felt his body relax slightly after being on guard for too long.

“King why do ya always take the guilt on ta your shoulders, an don’t answer I know why. Old man here is right if ya can believe in nothing else believe in us.”

Shiro spoke, his dual tone voice raspy and scolding, as his fiery aura gently surrounded Ichigo in a comforting embrace.

Ichigo gave a small nod of his head acknowledging what they had said and yet… he _had_ failed, he couldn’t protect them, couldn’t protect anyone. The world was broken it would soon crumble without the Shinigami to maintain the balance or the lynchpin.

Why? Why couldn’t he do anything to stop this? He was truly useless in the end. Why did they all have to die and leave him alone?

Suddenly, Ichigo felt an unfamiliar wetness in the corners of his eyes. Hesitantly he reached up to wipe away the liquid only to find tears. He had promised them he wouldn’t cry, not till he was at peace. This… this wasn’t peace even with the harmony of their bond. How could he shed tears for his family and friends when he had well and truly failed them; he had promised his dad that he would be strong for the rest of them.

But they were gone, every single last one of them.

The reasons he had woken in the morning after his mother’s death. Yuzu’s kind smiles, and Karin’s faint grousing. Their gatherings on the rooftops, or later in the sand eating Orihime’s eccentric food.

Rukia, Uryū, Chad, Shunsui, Jushiro, Isshin, Yuzu, Karin, Yoruichi, Kisuke, Shinji, Hiyori, Rose, Love, Kenpachi, Unohana, the list went on. What did he have to be strong for, to live for? When all of them, all of it was gone, dead.

Ichigo’s power whispered from his body as the thoughts and feelings built before it exploded out from him swirling in a rapid mixture of deep blues and reds intermixed with sharp blacks and whites, that could only be likened to an atom bomb.

The very ground evaporated under his feet as he sunk to the earth the wind blowing fiercely, his long orange hair whipping in all directions as Ichigo’s very body began to glow his eyes becoming two pools of vibrant light as the landscape began to disappear. The very moment Ichigo was living (if it could be called that) was being erased, the very laws of space and time ripped apart. Ichigo let out a harsh scream as every single drop of his power exploded out from him like a supernova the size of the sun. 

And then Ichigo knew no more as his conscious slowly faded to darkness. The concerned voices of his Zanpaktou becoming distant in his mind as he thought of his family and friends one last time, wondering if he would ever see them again, before succumbing to the darkness.

X

Ichigo came to with a faint groan, his whole body ached in a way that reminded him of the aftermath of drinking with Shunsui. What happened? Ichigo questioned trying to recall the last thing he remembered.

Suddenly Ichigo’s eyes flew open as what had happened returned to his mind scattered bits and pieces…what little he could understand. Slowly with a breath, he closed his eyes and focused on recalling what had occurred. He had lost control of his power and his emotions; he remembered thinking about his family and friends with Zangetsu’s distant voice in the background as his vision faded to black. Zangetsu.

A deep pang of sorrow struck Ichigo’s chest as his mind recalled his two Zanpaktou spirits, desperately searching his inner world for his two trusted companions. They had stuck with him through far more than the end of the world and didn’t deserve what he put them through in his foolishness.

“Relax Ichigo we are here with you.”

Ossan’s voice said and Ichigo felt his shoulders sag in relief knowing that his Zanpaktou were with him. He never wanted to feel that crushing loneliness again. His very world had tunnelled in around him, and yet when they were together Ichigo felt like he had a wall of iron behind him silently supporting him and keeping him upright.

“Aw King don’t get so sappy on us ya know we’ll always be here for ya.”

Shiro chided with amusement and fondness in the raspy dual tone voice of his. Ichigo nodded attentively listening and analyzing their reaitsu, present but drained, and the bond that thrummed between them; emotions and feelings bright and clear as a summer’s day.

Blearily opening his eyes, Ichigo blinked at gentle sunlight as he surveyed the room he was resting in. Warm oak wood panelling made up the walls and provided a small sense of comfort to Ichigo compared to the white of cold stone walls. On the far side of the room, a pair of shoji doors stood slightly open letting a flash of green seep in and a morning breeze travel through the airy room. The bed had soft blankets of cotton which took away the chill of the light breeze and left only a cozy warmth. Beside the bed resting against the wooden walls was Zangetsu in their sealed state, the ebony blade glowed softly in the mid-afternoon light which peaked through the shoji doors.

Ichigo’s long hair swirled lightly in the breeze and his lengthy bangs shadowed his eyes reminding him that he needed a haircut (Rose used to do it for him until…) as Ichigo closed his eyes and took a deep breath tentatively trying to feel his reaitsu. Connecting with the presence inside him, thrumming through his bones, Ichigo closed his eyes and let it surround him; it was largely depleted leaving a set wariness in his bones, as he slowly let small tendrils stretch out to feel the area around him. He needed to know where he was and what was happening if only to assure himself that he wasn’t in some strange afterlife.

He let out a quiet sigh of relief when he felt the presence of Soul Society, rather than the empty nothingness he had come to know. And then his breath was trapped in his lungs, and he was gripping the sheets beside him in a death like grip as he realized what he felt.

There were presences in Soul Society. That he could sense even with his diminished reaitsu. Souls who were long dead, with no possible way to be alive.

Granted this was Soul Society, Ichigo could feel it in the paved streets echoing faint lives, years of life, the power of the Captains and Soutaicho acting as a shield protecting the land. It comforted Ichigo in a small way, though he was still left floundering and confused, wondering if this was the afterlife.

Suddenly, the soft sound of footsteps loud as gunfire to his senses appeared outside the other set of shoji doors, disturbing Ichigo’s somewhat panicked musings. Gently, Ichigo uncurled his fists from the sheets taking a few deep breaths to regain his control.

Ichigo’s eyes slowly opened once more, trained on the door and the strangely familiar presence behind its thin frame. Slowly, the shoji doors slid open inch by inch to reveal the person behind the light wooden frame.

Ichigo let out a sharp breath at the sight that greeted him. Spiky raven hair stuck up untameably (Ichigo would know), highlighting the wise grey eyes and carefree smile below. An ebony shihakusho swirled lightly in the breeze the lieutenant badge of the Thirteenth glowing brightly in the gentle sunlight. The Shiba clan crest stood out boldly in black on his left arm as he finished opening the door.

“Oh, you’re awake, Captain Unohana said you probably wouldn’t wake for a few more days. Especially with your reaitsu being almost completely depleted.”

Kaien Shiba spoke in a fast voice that still retained an air of gentleness his eyes alight with sudden energy like a puppy released to run free. Ichigo stared at the Shiba with mute shock as his mind tried to process what he was seeing. Kaien Shiba had died long ago killed by Aizen’s treachery and yet here he stood in front of him alive and as exuberant as ever.

There were very few explanations that seemed plausible and he was beginning to suspect that he was indeed dead after all. That or some illusion, because no dream could replicate with such intensity the world around him.

Gently Ichigo reached out his reaitsu in the barest of caresses, to feel for certain if this was really the Kaien Shiba, and not an illusion like Kyoka Suigetsu was capable of producing (though such illusions had long ago stopped working). Ichigo’s shoulders visibly relaxed once he had affirmed that this was indeed the Thirteenth division’s lieutenant; though Kaien showed no signs of feeling Ichigo’s soft prodding.

X

Kaien quirked his eyebrow at their young guest’s peculiar actions but shrugged it off before studying the young man in front of him. Bright orange hair and dark eyes that were filled with sorrow, pain and a wisdom beyond years. His face (much like Kaien’s own. They could be twins!) rested in a twisted frown as he looked at Kaien with something akin to confusion. Pale skin seemed to glow unhealthily in the quiet sunlight as the man moved to sit up revealing a heavily scarred chest as the blankets slid down to pile at his waist. A visible shiver wracked the young man’s frame and Kaien quickly sprung to action.

“There is no need to be in such a hurry! You should rest Captain Unohana said you would probably be sore for a few more days not to mention, you won’t be up to your full strength.”

Kaien spoke in a soothing voice as he moved closer to the orange-haired kid who flinched slightly at the mention of Unohana as if he knew the living fear the women represented. Reluctant and tense he let Kaien help him move into a more comfortable position where he could see through the crack in the shoji doors. It led into a small garden full of lush greenery in the afternoon sun with a warm brown tiled path leading off into the distance. The clan heir liked to walk there in the early mornings with Isshin-Jii sometimes.

The lieutenant sheepishly rubbed the back of his head as he considered the kid sitting in front of him as Kaien settled onto a chair placed beside the bed. He tilted his head in sudden curiosity and asked, “I never received your name you know with you being unconscious and all?”

“My name? It’s Ichigo, though usually, it is the host that gives their name first… am-am I dead?”

The swift reply came in a deep voice with soft undertones that spoke of patience and strength, it was the voice one would perhaps expect from the leader of an army. One who could command men with only a single word, more powerful than yelling at the soldier; it reminded him of the Head Captain. And was followed by soft hesitance and furrowed brows.

Kaien smiled at Ichigo’s name and the slightly snarky response, that was well within the realms of etiquette. He frowned for a second as he acknowledged that the kid had not given a last name. As well as the faintly devastating question. It was a question that led to many more within the lieutenant’s mind.

Kaien put his hand out in front of Ichigo and with a brilliant smile said, “I am Kaien Shiba, lieutenant of the Thirteenth, please call me Kaien, and excuse my lapse in manners. After all, I would say we’re pretty close after I saved your life. And as far as I can tell you and I are both alive in Soul Society, though in a rather perverse sense we are dead.”

A ghost of a smile danced across Ichigo’s face, eyes fond and warm in a way that ignited a smile on Kaien’s own lips. He silently endeavoured to make Ichigo smile as much as possible. If only to relieve the terrible ache that settled on Kaien’s chest the night he had found Ichigo. There was some hidden darkness in the young soul, and he looked too much of a Shiba for Kaien to let the matter rest

Ichigo’s gaze darted to the katana resting against the wall an unreadable expression placating his features, before he reached out and gave Kaien’s hand a firm shake and he said in a pleasant tone of voice that lingered with mischief, “It is nice to meet you Kaien-san.”

“I did not say Kaien-san was acceptable, thank you.”

Kaien said his voice rising slightly as Ichigo’s lips curved with lingering mischief and amusement, and the clan heir grinned at the expression. The young lieutenant made a great show of hastily looking around in fear, sending a flashing wink in Ichigo’s direction as he hoped Kūkaku hadn’t heard him. The Shiba princess could be a downright nightmare when she was furious, and Kaien was never one to incur her wrath without good reason. And for even speaking to Ichigo too loudly she would likely verbally flay him or worse.

Kaien settled a bit in the chair placed a fair distance from the cot, dragging it closer with all the grace and screeching noise of a bat. Ichigo regarded the action with sceptical eyes, but it was distant like the youth was seeing two images at once.

One of the servants, Tsubomi, if Kaien recalled the chestnut-haired girl correctly, knocked, disturbing Kaien’s musings. She entered quiet as a mouse and set down a tray of tea before darting off with a respectful bow. Ichigo eyed the tea like a man in the middle of the desert eyed water, partial disbelief, and a bit of longing.

Kaien wondered at the expression, curiosity thrumming under his skin and growing louder the longer he spent in the presence of the strange kid. With a shake of his head, he poured the steaming liquid into two mugs and handed one to Ichigo, eyes discreetly tracking the patchwork of scars.

Sipping the near scorching liquid down in a gulp, Kaien did his best to retain his dignity and not choke on the burning liquid, instead focusing on the heat blossoming in his chest. A vague twist of Ichigo’s lips that reflected a smile appeared, even as his grip on the mug tightened.

Kaien bit his lip as he considered the kid over the lip of his own mug. Finding a reaitsu deprived, unconscious young man on your way home from work was a surreal and strange experience that Kaien was loathed to repeat. That, however, didn’t diminish nor banish the living wraith seated in front of him.

Ichigo looked like he had come from a war zone that first night, wearing a shihakusho (though it had been barely recognizable as such) faded and torn, skin pale and looking like death. His breath had been near non-existent, from where it fluttered shallowly.

Seeing him awake did little to dispel the discontent that brewed in the clan heir’s chest like one of Nejibana’s storms. Those eyes of his, hidden beneath long bangs as they were, held sorrow so deep and thick it was like a ravine, one that Kaien could lose himself in. There was age not built of life, and peace of soul reflected in some shattered portions.

Ichigo was an enigma if Kaien had ever met one, and he silently vowed to keep the kid away from the Twelfth Division. Furrowing his brow Kaien considered asking Ichigo a question, wondering if it would disturb the strange and serene silence between them, or startle the kid.

Eventually, with Nejibana’s faint encouragement Kaien settled on asking, it was Ichigo’s choice to answer, and maybe the more Kaien knew, the more he could aid the youth.

“So, Ichigo… you don’t have to answer if you’re not willing, but what do you remember?

The lieutenant tentatively questioned. Silence thickened quickly in the small room as Ichigo’s face contorted with a rush of emotions that tugged at Kaien’s heartstrings. There was such an agony and pain there, accompanied by thick sorrow, and a multitude of unidentifiable things. Kaien was left wondering how any one man, could hold so much emotion. Ichigo’s breath rushed harshly from his lips, and the diminished presence of his reaitsu fluctuated wildly around the room in quaking waves like Ichigo’s own breath.

Kaien frowned at the obvious distress that was plaguing the kid, Ichigo was already beginning to close off, and his state only seemed to worsen his slight form trembling, hands clenched in white-knuckled grips. Kaien had no doubt that if he pushed for answers, he would receive them only on the basis of how vulnerable Ichigo appeared at that moment.

Nejibana whispered with his instincts and before he could really comprehend the movement, his reaitsu was surging out, the calming presence that swelled within the waters of his spirit swept out and surged through the room.

Ichigo shuddered, shakes slowing slightly and Kaien made sure he was a good distance away from Ichigo’s personal space before he gently coached, “It’s okay Ichigo just breathe, deep breaths come on… in…. out.”

Slowly Ichigo settled, his hands releasing their white-knuckled grasp on the bed sheets, there was sweat lining his brow and his breath was still ragged. But the fear and terror that had paralyzed him, had passed leaving the soul appearing drained and weary.

Kaien made some soft reassuring noises letting his reaitsu continue to flow throughout the room and he gently spoke again voice quiet and calm, “Hey it’s okay Ichigo, you don’t need to speak about it, not till you’re ready, not if you don’t want to. Even if you are never ready.”

Ichigo looked up through tangled bangs at the words eyes radiating a faint light that seemed a touch brighter than he had previously seen them. Roughly Ichigo nodded the motion betraying the exhaustion in every bone of his body.

Kaien considered the kid for a minute before he turned his gaze to the open shoji doors, where the greenery outside helped soothe him. Kaien was concerned at the scene he had just witnessed; he had no idea how to aid Ichigo. And he couldn’t help but wonder what could have traumatized him, that even the thought of what had happened before left him trembling. Regardless Kaien decided he would stay with Ichigo for a while longer, letting his presence help soothe the fractured soul before him.

Briefly, Kaien glanced over at Ichigo checking up on the former patient. There was a faint smile curving his lips, infinitesimally small, but there nonetheless. There was a strange wonder in the air about the kid and Kaien wondered what the future would hold for Soul Society at Ichigo’s appearance.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y’all enjoyed this rewritten version of the first chapter, I have the second one written and if you’d would like to see let me know. Comments are always appreciated and I hope everyone is staying safe during Quarantine and is excited for the new anime.


	2. Quatervois

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quatervois (n.)  
> A crossroad; a critical decision or turning point in one’s life.
> 
> Hey, y’all! Here is the second chapter of what I have of the rewrite, a huge thanks to everyone for all the positive comments on the last chapter. I was actually looking at FF.Net where I first posted this fic (in its first incarnation what y’all know is actually also a rewrite) and it’s actually six years old. Crazy. Also, a super huge thank you to ScarletTitiana for editing this chapter!! Anyways, enjoy!

X

Kaien perched beside Ichigo on the bed as the day faded into lush hues of rouge and blossoming lilac. The lieutenant was rambling, speaking of gentler topics to fill the silence, to diffuse the previously tense air.

Speaking of his Taicho and Kyōraku's endless antics brought a light smile to Kaien’s lips, as he recalled Lisa's near regularly scheduled appearances in Ukitake-san’s office; or the one occasion where Kaien decided it was a wise idea to drown his perceived sorrows in many bottles of sake. After the disaster of the following ceremony, he earned a quiet laugh for that story.

Idly, his speech drifted to a conversation of their clan, and how the elders kept pressuring Isshin-jii to bear a successor when the man was far too much of a free spirit to ever settle down. Laughing in a weary manner, the Lieutenant bemoaned the large amounts of paperwork he had to shoulder after his recent naming as the clan heir.

Ichigo remained quiet as the lieutenant spoke, a thoughtful and slightly troubled air about him. But whenever Kaien glanced over there was a softness to his features, and a fondness kindling in his eyes as he listened.

As Kaien continued to talk aimlessly, he wondered over the kid they had taken in. It was obvious that wherever Ichigo had come from, he had seen something horrible. Scars such as his did not appear from nothing, and the same could be said for the obvious trauma. It left Kaien wondering if the kid had a home to return to and if he was even able to.

However, he knew that no wars had been waged upon Soul Society's soils, not since the Blood War, which was now a mere legend of the past. Which left him with the question of where such a war could come from. The mortal world?

More troubling was the state of Ichigo himself, with scars that were ghastly to look at, a sort of fragility hanging off of his shoulders, and the veritable well of reaitsu that dwelled beneath the surface. Nejibana's soothing presence eased his thoughts where they deepened his brow and weighed heavily on his heart.

Turning to consider said kid, Kaien caught Ichigo mid-yawn, eyes blinking in that manner that communicated a desire to stay awake but was overwhelmed by the body’s need for sleep. It was almost adorable; Kaien wisely refrained from commenting on it.

Popping up from the bed, the movement accompanied with a few creaks that made both Ichigo and Kaien wince, the heir turned to face the kid, sincerity heavy in his eyes and said, “I’ll leave you to get some sleep Ichigo. Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything.”

Ichigo nodded, still distant, but perhaps a bit closer to awake. Shaking his head, and biting his lip in thinly veiled amusement, Kaien turned and moved towards the shoji door.

Pausing in the doorway, Kaien flashed a last fleeting glance in Ichigo's direction. His lips curved up of their own accord at the sight of the kid glancing at the garden, with something tranquil painting his features. He hoped the troubled young man would be able to get some rest.

Nodding more to himself, Kaien silently slipped out of the room, assured that Ichigo would be alright. In any case, the kid probably needed the time alone, if the contemplation lining his brow was any indication.

Kaien paused and stood outside in the hallway, leaning back against one of the walls behind him, highlighted in burnished amber in the flickering glow of the oil lamps. There were still remnants of unease that Nejibana couldn’t soothe, brewing in the pit of his stomach, and bubbling up to the back of his throat.

Running a hand through spiky tangled locks, Kaien decided to visit his sister. Even though Kūkaku was young, she possessed a certain level of wisdom for life and all its complexities - a maturity that the women of the Shiba clan seemed to hold in bounds (for good reason, considering the nature of Shiba men).

Decision made, Kaien pushed off from the wall and padded through the familiar hallways of their childhood home towards his younger sister’s room; thoughts drifting tempestuously as he walked.

Staring pensively for a moment, Kaien shook away his worries and knocked lightly on the thin rice frame. Sounds of shuffling greeted Kaien for a few minutes before Kūkaku’s low voice called out, “Come in.”

Sliding the door open Kaien entered his sister's room, greeted by the sight of shades of crimson lining the walls, comfy wood-panelled furniture and the light drifting scent of jasmine, accompanied by the overwhelming tint of gunpowder. Kūkaku was seated on the bed, accompanied by said gunpowder and fuses, little foils of brightly coloured papers nearby. The Shiba princess turned to face Kaien with a knowing grin.

Out of the three siblings, Kūkaku was the one who had found love in the Shiba’s famous craft of fireworks. He had lectured her before about making them on her bed (or even anywhere other than the workshops set aside for building fireworks) but the young woman was a true Shiba through and through; and completely disregarded the rules.

Shaking his head with an exasperated smile, Kaien strolled over to Kūkaku’s bed and plopped down beside her with a huff, disturbing her materials, and ruffling her hair. Kūkaku frowned in annoyance, and playfully swatted Kaien on the arm and pouted with a whine of his name.

Remaining strong in the face of her ire, Kaien resolutely turned his head away, chin tilted towards the ceiling with faux haughtiness. Kūkaku laughed and called his name once more before she fell quiet, the kind of silence that lingered with hidden intent. The lieutenant had only a minute to worry before Kūkaku was crawling over Kaien, hands racing over his sides.

Kaien laughed at the ticklish sensation before he carefully flipped his sister over and launched a counter-attack. Mercilessly, Kaien continued to tickle his sister, and her sweet laughter bounced about the room, till she finally yielded, eyes bright with mirth. 

Rolling off his sister, Kaien carefully propped himself up, dusting the gunpowder off with a faint sense of annoyance. The younger Shiba only laughed and stuck her tongue out at him. Kaien rolled his eyes but made no further moves to attack his sister.

They sat together in the silence for a few moments, Kūkaku continuing to tinker on the explosive device in her hands. Kaien rolled his fingers together idly, watching the younger Shiba work as he organised his thoughts before talking to his sister.

“You went to see the unconscious man today did you not?”

She questioned, perceptive as ever in the silence that had descended comfortably between the two siblings. Kaien nodded, unwilling to procrastinate any longer he ran a hand through his hair and responded, “Yes, he was awake. His name is Ichigo.”

Kūkaku set down the small canister she had been filling and turned her murky sea-green eyes on Kaien. There was a deep-sea of emotions in her eyes - surprise at the information, and hesitance at whatever news Kaien might be carrying about the kid.

“And?”

His younger sibling questioned quietly, in the suddenly tense atmosphere. Kaien frowned, the motion pulling the corners of his lips as he lamented the loss of the previous jovial atmosphere. Letting out a sigh, Kaien shifted and receiving a slightly impatient look, he responded, “It’s bad. It’s just… he’s… It’s obvious that he’s been through something traumatic…”

“The scars?”, Kūkaku questioned, interrupting his previous train of thought, and Kaien remembered that she had been there the night Kaien had burst through the doors carrying Ichigo. Frantic and calling for one of the servants to fetch Unohana, he had paid little attention to his surroundings, only keen on finding a place to set the (too), thin man, down where the healer could treat him.

“Yeah the scars… and he’s scared? It’s like the shell shock you see in the people from Rungokai sometimes. But… it’s so hard to explain Kūkaku, you have to meet him to understand. There’s this great big sadness in him.”

While his younger sister remained quiet, pondering the solemn confession, Kaien turned his gaze away, distant and lost in his thoughts. Kūkaku’s warm hand settling on his arm helped to draw Kaien back, and settle some of the worry blooming in his chest.

“What do you want to do, Kaien?”

She asked, sounding so young that it drew Kaien’s eyes. Sometimes he forgot that Kūkaku wasn’t a woman yet, that she had taken on the mantle of maturity after their parents had passed to help care for Ganju. He forgot that the kid beside him was still unsure, still searching for her place in the world.

Kaien wrapped an arm around his sister, drawing her into his chest where he gently rested his chin atop her head, to her murmured weak protests. What did he want to do to aid Ichigo?

The question rang like a gong through his mind, lingering and spreading like waves in the sea. Kaien had no idea how to aid with trauma, even Unohana-san was likely not practised in the matters. Ichigo required healing in both the mental and spiritual sense, that much was obvious. But the manner of aid was less so.

But more than anything else, the biggest question that remained at the forefront of his mind was that whether wherever Ichigo had come from still existed. Was he a soul from the mortal realm? Someone from the far reaches of the late Rungokai Districts? If it was the latter, Kaien did not want to return the kid to an environment that had injured him so grievously.

What if Ichigo wanted to return? Who was Kaien to deny Ichigo that right? He could try and convince the kid to stay, but for what? He likely had nothing to keep him in Soul Society. The best the clan heir would likely be able to offer was healing under Unohana’s care and even that was weak.

What did Kaien want? He wanted to protect Ichigo from whatever had harmed him. He wanted to help Ichigo heal. Still lost and struggling for an answer, Kaien tightened his grip around his sister and murmured in the quiet, “I… I just want to help Ichigo. But I know nothing of his situation.”

Kūkaku wrapped her hand around his own in a silent show of reassurance, and a thoughtful silence settled over the room. Kaien could just see those amber eyes now when he closed his own eyes, and it troubled him deeply.

“You can speak to him tomorrow about his situation, and try to go from there,” his younger sister advised after a moment, her voice soft and soothing. Kaien considered the suggestion with a nod, after all, it was easier than trying to plan a thousand different outcomes. Still, the thoughts remained, crowding his mind.

Nejibana helped to clear his thoughts, ironing them out so that her wielder wasn’t overwhelmed and could think clearly. It came to him slowly, and all at once, an idea that was both a solution and a commitment.

“What if….If Ichigo has no family, we could offer to adopt him into the clan.”

Kaien suggested after a moment, words heavy and slow, though receiving a gentle feeling of approval from Nejibana. Kūkaku was quiet, and the lingering silence seemed to be akin to a battle, waiting for the decisive blow.

After a moment, she sighed, and shifting in Kaien’s arms, she said, “What would the elders say, Kaien? And do you know Ichigo? Do you think we can or should trust him like that and bring him into our family?”

He winced at the multitude of questions thrown his way, instinctively knowing an answer to a few of them, and after thinking over the others, he replied, “Who cares about the elders? If Isshin-jii gave his approval, the only thing they would be able to do would be complaining and whining about it. In any case, I think I can manage to handle myself well-enough in their eyes for one argument.

“Kūkaku I don’t know Ichigo at all. He is a complete and utter stranger to me. But I feel as if I can trust him, I feel like I know him like he’s not the kind of person to stab someone in the back. I feel he belongs with us, not any of the other clan members, us.

“I want to help him heal… I am no master of the soul or mind, but I know that we can help. Just give him a chance sis, and meet him, look him in the eyes. Then if you say no, I will respect your decision.”

The silence descended between the two like the swift tides of night and Kaien resisted the urge to reveal his discomfort with a single movement after his speech. He glanced down at his sister who was fiddling with an unlit fuse, betraying her own heavy thoughts on the matter.

“If you believe that we should help this kid, then I’ll trust you. But remember, you’ll be the one dealing with the council,” Kūkaku cautioned, her voice sincere, as she briefly glanced up to flash Kaien a fond smile. With a great deal of effort, he resisted the urge to fall back and grasp at his heart because his sister was so cute and accepting. Instead, Kaien nodded and placed a chaste kiss on the crown of her head, whispering faintly, “That’s all I could ask dear one.”

The Shiba princess laughed, a reassuring sound that brightened the room once more as Kaien disentangled himself from Kūkaku, stretching out tense joints and stressed shoulders.

“Not going to stay and help me craft fireworks, Kaien?” Kūkaku questioned with a cocky grin as Kaien made to turn and walk towards the doors. Pivoting halfway, Kaien fixed his sister with a chiding look, though there was a hint of amusement underneath. She giggled as he glided to the doorway, where he paused once more, and she playfully waved a small canister.

“Be careful Kukkaku,” he cautioned with a roll of his eyes. His sister nodded and Kaien could only hope that she wouldn’t almost burn the house down once more. Exiting the room, the lieutenant braced himself against a wall and took a deep breath and decided that he would speak to Ichigo later.

For now, his mind and heart had decided that it was time he went and visited his younger brother. Tease Ganju for his fascination with boars, and maybe sample some of his cooking (which grew more splendid each passing day).

It would help to take his mind off of the orange-haired youth sitting in their guest room. Decision made, Kaien pushed off the wall, and with the reassurance of Nejibana’s presence padded off to find the youngest Shiba.

X

He was in the past, he was in the kami-forsaken past. The Past. One hundred something years before he was even born. This thought circled relentlessly through Ichigo’s mind as he paced his inner world, his own weak reaitsu surging about him, storms raging and thundering overhead. Blinding sheets of rain cascaded around him, plastering his (too) long bangs over his eyes, and drenching his shihakusho so it hung off his frame.

Ichigo was ignorant to this fact as he continued to pace, Shiro and Ossan watching the spectacle in the distance with varying levels of concern, as Ichigo tried to come to terms with the rather monumental fact that he was indeed in the past of all things. He was thankful his spirits understood Ichigo’s need to come to terms with it alone, at least for a few minutes.

It was just so, so very impossibly hard to believe. There was hope stuttering in his chest like a fire, flickering and dangerously close to rising ever higher because he could change it all.

He could save them.

Stop their deaths from ever occurring. All the hardships, the torture, the isolation, the suffering that had stripped everyone of what they once were. They could live.

It was just so hard to comprehend, how had he even appeared in the past? Was it through some strange last mechanism of the Hogyoku or the last will of the Soul King? It made little to no sense in Ichigo’s mind, but he couldn’t seem to worry over it in greater depth. Not when he had to accept it had happened, he could puzzle it out later.

Not when the realization he was in the past kept slamming into him at every turn. Sighing, Ichigo took a deep breath in a vague attempt to calm his rushing thoughts, focusing on the motion, and the settled presence of his inner world. He glided over to the edge of the crumbling skyscraper he was standing on, and plopped down gracelessly, letting his legs hang off the edge as he focused on his thoughts.

He was in the past, at a time where Kaien Shiba was still alive and lieutenant of the Thirteenth division. He could talk to and look at  _ his cousin _ , who did look exactly like him (and that wasn’t strange at all). According to what he had sensed in the short time he had been in this time period, the Vizard hollowfication hadn’t even happened yet (his thoughts instantly dredged up memories of a grinning blond, soft piano strings, long nights around the fire). Pushing back the lingering memories, Ichigo took another deep breath, banishing the nausea that roiled in his stomach, and attempted to still the shaking of his hands.

_ Ichigo could save them all _ . He could stop the Winter War from happening, deal with the Quincy invasion and all the various invasions that Soul Society would undergo before long. Make sure they all lived.

He would have to relive everything… years upon years till the timeline he had come from, always knowing the enemies in the shadows and what would happen before it did. Live without seeing Rukia, Uryu, Chad, Orihime (don’t think of their last words, her scream as he was too late over and over), again. Oh, kami, he would have to live with the people he had known all his lives as complete strangers, interact with them and meet them all over again. He would have to  _ pretend  _ that he could see their deaths, know their secrets, while they would know nothing of him, and stare at him blankly with eyes empty of familiar love. Ichigo shuddered, fisting his hands into the fabric of his shihakusho at this trembling realisation, dragging harsh breaths from his lips.

Hunching forward, Ichigo shivered as he realized he would have to deal with the future alone, making sure that he didn’t interfere and change the timeline beyond all recognition. Right? Would his presence change the timeline? What would happen if the timeline was changed? Would he even be born? Could he even tell anyone? Should he tell anyone?

And even if he did - how would they react? Would they express their disbelief, anger, betrayal? Would they scream and yell at him till he made sense? Lock him up in Muken so he could experience Aizen’s prison, bringing all the torment and pain full circle??

But what if he screwed the world over again? What if everything went wrong, and he couldn’t save them? What if he couldn’t do anything, and had to hold their broken bodies in his arms again, and know that they would never exist because of his mistakes. Know that they’d never become who they truly were because he wasted that chance, like a failed executioner.

The fears and worries grew larger in his mind with every passing thought, overwhelming him, leaving him stuck in a limbo of confusion and unsure of what the future could hold.  _ He could kill them all. _ Ichigo shivered breath brittle at his lips, he felt like screaming, felt like falling upon the ground and staying there, unmoving for centuries.

Shiro’s warm presence wrapped around Ichigo’s huddled frame, pulling him out from the desperate thoughts twisting in his mind, that left his eyes stinging, and his heart aching in his chest. Instead, there was the beat of his own heart echoing loudly, even in the drowning lull of rain beating like bullets upon his inner world, and the almost overpowering brilliance of Shiro’s own reaitsu soothing Ichigo’s paranoia.

“Shh Ichi, deep breaths. Breathe with me - In. Out. In. Out,” The hollow (and Shinigami) portion of his powers whispered, voice quiet but loud as thunder, striking mounting cluttering thoughts cluttering his mind. 

Ichigo listened to his zanpaktou’s advice and began to take shallow breaths in, focusing on the repetitive motion, and only the simple motion of breathing. Eventually, he didn’t feel as if all his thoughts and emotions were filling up every inch of his body, twisting it to suit their needs, and his usual level-headedness returned.

“You’re with me?”, Ichigo questioned tentatively in the silence, words barely falling from his lips. Shiro growled his affirmation in Ichigo’s ear where he was still curled around the only survivor of a broken world.

“Always Ichigo. We’ll figure this out together,” Zangetsu-Ossan’s voice rumbled in Ichigo’s inner world, as the tall spirit’s presence made itself known directly to Ichigo’s left. The orange-haired Shinigami craned his head up to look at the older spirit, who was glancing down at Ichigo reassuringly, eyes warm with the love they shared.

“Focus, Ichigo. You can go slowly and take things one step at a time. Our presence here has already changed the timeline irrevocably,” Ossan advised, as his cool reaitsu helped Ichigo to clear his thoughts. The bearer of the two spirits nodded, taking a few last deep breaths before he glanced out at the storm-swept state of his inner world. He was in the past. The why and how didn’t matter now, not till he had sorted out his place within the past. Ichigo accepted it, had to accept it or he couldn’t move on, this was the past. There would always be shock and disbelief if the truth of his presence were to be known.

His presence would inevitably change the timeline. What was the point in trying to keep the timeline the same if he could still make sure that every person he loved was born and lived a fulfilling life? The characters in movies, shows, novels on time travel that he had seen or read always tried to ensure that nothing changed and failed abysmally. 

Ichigo knew that wouldn’t be able to keep everything the same. He wouldn’t be able to ensure that his friends would be born, or that the Vizard incident would or would not happen. So, what could he do?

He could try to strengthen the Gotei 13, make sure they were ready for all the battles to come their way. He could prevent Kaien’s death. The lieutenant hadn’t deserved to die and Rukia had been devastated by his loss.

But should he act to prevent the Vizards’ hollowfication? If he did, then they wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of harmonizing with their darker nature (it would be easier if Ichigo taught them how to do it). But they would lose the great increase in power it provided, and hence, Soul Society’s lone edge against the Quincy. 

And Ichigo would be alone.  _ The lone Vizard _ , he would never again have that family he had found in the enigmatic collection of Captains and lieutenants (supporting each other, fighting constantly back to back, ruffling his hair, with whimsical antics and light grins).

It all depended on Aizen. His name alone sent a complex mixture of emotions curling through his gut, dominated by the rushing hate at his instigation of the Winter War. But this war had allowed the Gotei 13 to survive the Quincy invasion. Aizen had even joined their side in the fight, in the end. Did Aizen deserve a second chance? Ichigo had felt the ever-present loneliness in his blade, hovering like a dark cloud.

Ichigo groaned out loud, running a hand through the hair that stuck to his forehead in curtains. There was just so much to think about, so many events that could or could not happen, and so many plans to make. It was overwhelming and he couldn’t do it alone.

Shiro growled at that sentiment, and Ichigo reminded himself that he wasn’t alone. But could he tell anyone? Sure, there would be disbelief, but he could prove it with the knowledge he held of his friends and their shared future that had been his past. And yet. Did he want to burden them with that knowledge? The knowledge of a bleak future where they and everyone else had died.

No. Everything in Ichigo shied away from even the thought of telling them, watching the horror blossom on their features, and burdening them with such a heavy future. So, no. He wouldn’t tell anyone. Ichigo could, would figure it out, and handle the future alone but for his swords’ spirits.

He would make sure that he stood tall and remained strong enough to carry his burdens on his own, with the aid of Zangetsu.

He felt some of the stress worrying his brow abate at the decision, even as it felt like he had settled the fate of the world(s) onto his shoulders once again. More so than in his youth, when he was recklessly rushing into battles, leading the charge, fighting the main villain nearly always on his own. The semi-new shackles were invisible but heavy nonetheless, but Ichigo couldn’t resent them, because as always, he was trying to save his family.

Leaning back against Shiro, Ichigo sighed, tired and weary, having lived so much in only… twenty, thirty years. He had experienced wars, the like of which the mortal realm had never seen, dealt with incomparable loss, and at the end, instead of being granted peace, he was here on another journey, or rather one life-long quest.

The hollow-like spirit’s reaitsu pulsed, warm around Ichigo, dispelling his thoughts, the multitude of fears and doubts that still lingered, despite the major concern having been put to rest. A hand ran through the tangled mop of Ichigo’s hair, a silent assurance of the unconditional support that his present company always offered. Ichigo was beyond thankful that his zanpaktou were with him, he would surely be lost without their presences.

Ossan and Shiro’s reiatsu wrapped comfortingly around Ichigo, and he basked it in, letting his thoughts idly drift, from Orihime’s eccentric cooking to the time Chad and Ichigo performed a particularly risky manoeuvre that paid off. He stayed away from any memory remotely close to being devastating, instead of focusing on the happier times that seemed as if from a dream sometimes, compared to everything else.

A knock pierced the swirling cacophony of Ichigo’s inner world, and trading an apologetic and fond look with his spirits, Ichigo pulled himself from his inner world. He winced slightly as the warm hue of the fading evening light and flickering oil lamps pierced his sight, realizing that he had been meditating for quite a while.

Before Ichigo could stretch out his likely stiff joints, and settle into a slightly more comfortable position, the door to his temporary room slid open, and the familiar scent of gunpowder became apparent. Ichigo hid a wince at the familiar but much younger visage that greeted him, with bright grey eyes, and noticeably whole limbs wrapped up in a kimono. The sight of his cousin hit Ichigo like a gong. He struggled to push back the images of her and Ganju lying on the battlefield - they had died together, the last Shiba clan members of Soul Society, and reminded himself that this was real.

The younger Shiba princess stole into his room with a wink in his direction, glancing around the guest room with a distracted air as she settled in the chair at his bedside. His chest hurt just looking at this young, unburdened, unjaded Kūkaku. His cousin who hadn’t seen war hadn’t experienced the loss of her older brother and the fall of her clan.

“Kūkaku Shiba, nice to meet you.”, her voice interrupted his steadily derailing train of thoughts, and Ichigo looked up to catch her left-hand hovering in front of his face, a bright optimistic grin behind the gesture. Smiling slightly at the expression, and all of its warmth Ichigo reached up and shook her hand and responded, “Ichigo. It's a pleasure to meet you, Shiba-san.”

“None of that, call me Kūkaku, there are far too many Shibas in this house for you to go around calling us all Shiba-san,” the Shiba princess chided Ichigo with a teasing grin and light humour in her dark eyes. Ichigo sighed and shook his head, but relented with a nod and the slight twitch of his lips. Appeased, Kūkaku nodded and settled in the rickety chair, comfortably splayed over its frame, she regarded him carefully.

Ichigo resisted the urge to twitch at the intense gaze Kūkaku had levelled on him. He reflected that he should have been used to the soul-piercing gaze that Kūkaku had only managed to hone further in later years (and turned it his way often enough), but it was not so. He still felt as if she was laying his soul bare, and gazing at his deepest, darkest secrets.

After another minute, the Shiba nodded to herself, having looked her fill, she idly fiddled with a fuse, pulled from some pocket within her kimono, and asked, “Ichigo do you have anywhere to return to?”

Let it never be said that the Shiba family were not blunt. They were likely the very definition of the word (himself included occasionally). Ichigo winced at the question, a quick grimace twisting his features before it fell away. Kūkaku looked vaguely apologetic at having provoked such a reaction, and likely triggering traumatic emotions (in her estimation), but said nothing as Ichigo took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart.

He wouldn’t be able to do this unless he could get control over his emotions. Ichigo wouldn’t be able to move forward if at every turn he was stopped by memories of their deaths, accompanied by the constant press of his emotions running up his throat. Steeling himself, Ichigo pushed them away, he had to focus on the present - he could deal with the thrumming emotions in his chest later (though knowing Ichigo, he would just ignore them till it became too much, never one to deal with his memories).

“I have no place to return to. My home was destroyed by war,” said Ichigo eventually in the expectant silence, fingering the hilt of his zanpaktou for comfort. He took a few more deep breaths to calm himself and looked up, expecting to see pity, maybe compassion in Kūkaku’s eyes.

There was an inordinate sadness in Kūkaku’s eyes, accompanied by emotion that was unlike pity, being more understanding in its nature. Ichigo knew she couldn’t understand the magnitude of his loss, but he recalled that the Shiba siblings had lost their parents at a young age. And maybe she hadn’t seen war, but she knew the veterans of it if those stormy grey eyes gazing at him were any indication. He appreciated the lack of pity, sick of the emotion clogging everyone’s eyes when he had passed them on the street, and felt that maybe she understood him.

The orange-haired Shinigami flashed the Shiba princess a small reassuring smile, trying to let her know that he was okay (he wasn’t but Ichigo could pretend to be, he was good at that). Kūkaku looked sceptical for a minute, gaze locked onto his own, trying to divine some measure of the truth, before she let the matter go and instead fiddled with the fuses in her hands once more.

“So Ichigo, do you know where we are?”, the Shiba princess questioned, after a minute of contemplative silence, throwing Ichigo for a loop. He arched a brow at the unexpected question, puzzled for a moment as to why she would ask. Then it occurred to Ichigo that he had been found in the middle of nowhere, reiatsu near completely drained, and the thought that he might have died and entered Soul Society wasn’t all that strange.

“We are in Soul Society. In what I presume is the Shiba mansion?”, Ichigo stated, ending with a slight question, though he was quite certain of his location (if only because Kūkaku and Ganju had once sat with him on the roof, speaking of it all in fond terms, reminiscing and bemoaning the duties of nobility). Across from him the young Shiba grinned and nodded, shifting raven locks over her shoulder, she seemed pleased that Ichigo was willing to speak, if her eyes were any indication.

Silently, he wondered if all he would receive would be an unending barrage of questions, about where he had come from, who his family was, and why he had a zanpaktou. The thing was, Ichigo wasn’t a good liar. Oh, he could lie, Kisuke had made sure of it if only to save their skins. But for Ichigo, lying involved half-truths. And he wasn’t sure whether he could dredge up a story for the curious Shiba on the spot, at least not without shoving unwanted memories to the forefront of his mind.

“Nee Ichigo, what do you like to do with your unfilled time?” Kūkaku asked, and Ichigo deflated a little at the innocent question, relief flooding his veins. Glancing up briefly, he caught thoughtfulness heavy in Kūkaku’s eyes but beyond that, there was a familiar gentleness to her features, one that reminded him of  _ his Kūkaku _ . Turning his attention to the sheets, he avoided the flashes of nostalgia and the pang in his heart as he considered the best way to answer her question.

What did he like to do in his free time? Whenever there had been a moment in the war, it had been spent sleeping, eating, or training. Maybe if he was lucky he had the chance to research with Kisuke or have a cup of tea with a friend. But spare time had been an unfamiliar concept in the time of war (and wasn’t that unsettling in of itself). Ichigo tried to think of what he had liked as a hobby before the wars, but it seemed like trying to remember another life. Maybe reading, the thrill of a street fight with punks, aiding the spirits in Karakura Town, spending time with and taking care of his sisters?

Eventually, Ichigo settled on an answer and replied, “Reading mostly, drinking tea, and walking about in nature. Yourself?”

Kūkaku blinked in surprise at his answer, before her face brightened with a soft glow, though Ichigo suspected his answers were quite generic (and something you would find on a dating website).

“I like working on our fireworks for the most part. Oh! I should teach you how to make them sometime!” the Shiba princess replied, idly fiddling with the fuses once more. Her answer (and subsequent enthusiasm) brought a grin to Ichigo’s lips, as the image of how Ichigo had first entered Soul Society came to his mind. He perked up slightly at Kūkaku’s offer - to learn how to craft the fireworks of the Shiba family would be an honour for Ichigo (though he might already be aware of the basics). After all, it was a heritage he had never experienced, at least not in true depth.

“You should have seen the first time Ganju tried to work with fireworks, Ganju is our younger brother,” Kūkaku began to recount with a fond grin, looking at Ichigo, as if trying to discern his reaction to the sudden story. Ichigo only raised a brow and the Shiba princess beamed and continued, “Well you see Ganju had the gunpowder, and the stars ready in the canister. But then he lit the fuse and accidentally dropped it near the canister, and it would suffice to say that without it being sealed, it got everywhere.”

Kūkaku finished with a wink and a cheeky grin, and Ichigo could almost imagine how the story played out. He flashed the Shiba a grin, briefly reflecting on Yuzu and Karin’s falls in their youth.

It was a bad idea to reflect on those memories, however, and Ichigo hastily pushed away from the memories that were beginning to cloud his mind, thick with grief, drawing on Zangetsu’s presence to ground himself. As if noticing his sudden discomfort, Kūkaku turned concerned eyes his way, motherly and warm, even at this younger age in life.

“How are you feeling Ichigo?” she asked, gently, as if speaking with any more forcefulness would make Ichigo freeze up (because honestly, his current emotional state was not a suitable topic for a relaxed conversation). So instead, Ichigo shrugged and focused on the physical aspect of the question, replying, “Tired and a bit sore.” Here, Ichigo paused, with mischief in his eyes, he fell into a monotone and continued, “But that’s to be expected when you’re drained of your reiatsu.”

He received an arched brow for his answer, and a soft peel of laughter that made Ichigo’s heart flutter, as if Kūkaku was both confused and amused by something he had said. She visibly shook it off, flashed him a reassuring smile, and commented, “Unohana-Taicho is arriving later in the evening to check your physical health once more, so hopefully everything will be alright.”

Ichigo frowned (and no, he did not pout, irrespective of what Shiro said) at the knowledge of Unohana’s return, already feeling the female Captain’s icy stare. As if sensing his fear and thoughts on the matter, Kūkaku gave Ichigo a sympathetic look, one that was quite light considering she didn’t have to deal with the check-up.

They settled in silence for a moment, Ichigo content to focus on Kūkaku’s presence (and he definitely wasn’t looking over every other minute, rather simply drinking in the sight of her alive and well). For that matter, the presence of Soul Society as a whole, alive and unbroken - was both strange, like he was drifting in between two realities, and grounding, assuring him that it was real.

“Would you like to hear about the time Kaien completely botched an important ceremony?”, Kūkaku asked after a time, mischief lining her features and making them glow in the oil lamp's warmth. Ichigo mirrored the grin on Kūkaku’s features and nodded. The Shiba princess beamed and nodded before she began, “Well you see, Kaien was in a hurry…”

Ichigo settled to listen to the story, letting her soothing voice wash over him. Laughing as the tale of mischief and happy accidents was told, he resolved to himself and to Zangetsu, that he would protect everyone.  _ He would save them _ . He wanted, no,  _ needed  _ to continue seeing their smiles, hearing their laughter even if they didn’t know him.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of the rewrite. I’ve tried to delve a lot more into the characters and their motivations while also trying to keep them in character. Comments are always super appreciated, thanks for reading y’all!


	3. Nepenthe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nepenthe  
> (n.) Something that can make you forget grief or suffering.
> 
> Hey everyone, here is the third chapter of the rewrite, a huge thank you to everyone for all of the positive support so far. This is the last chapter I had pre-written so any future chapters will definitely come a lot more sporadically. Anyways, read on and enjoy!  
> Also as always a super huge thank you to ScarletTitiana for editing!

X

Ichigo carefully walked through the nearly endless hallways of the Shiba family home, following semi-familiar wall patterns or pieces of furniture till he reached the main floor. Idly, the orange-haired Shinigami wondered if he would ever be able to memorize the layout of such a place. In all his years spent in Soul Society’s streets, he had never caught onto whatever insane architectural system that was followed in the place. It was one of the reasons why he preferred the roofs as his method of travel.

The bright sound of a child’s laughter pierced the veil of Ichigo’s thoughts, and he found himself outside of the sitting room. It was plastered with plush cushions and the heady scent of incense. Inside the room, Kūkaku was sprawled across a collection of pillows, sheets of paper held in her hands to the light of an oil lamp. Kaien was sitting beside her as was a strangely familiar small child.

From the doorway, Ichigo hovered and blinked a few times, unsure of whether to enter, as he stared in slight confusion at the kid settled beside Kaien. The Clan Heir paused in whatever he had been saying, his senses having likely caught the whisper of Ichigo’s reiatsu (he was still attempting to manage it and reign it under some control) and twisted around to look at the orange-haired Shinigami awkwardly hovering in the doorway. Before Ichigo could make his escape, the lieutenant was standing up from the floor and gliding over to Ichigo to pull him into the room with a gentle yet firm grasp on his arm.

Kaien deposited Ichigo on the floor next to where he had previously been sitting, uncaring of his faint protests, to the curious attention of the child. Ichigo studied the kid (who actually looked to be about ten or twelve) and sucked in a quiet breath as he recognised him. He tried to correlate the image of Ganju, tall, grinning Ganju, with the small wide-eyed child before him. He was most definitely not having a crisis, definitely not panicking and freaking out over the fact that the man he had once known now sat before him as a child. Of course, said panic was well hidden from the other occupants of the room.

“Ganju, this is Ichigo, the man I saved. Ichigo, this is Ganju, my adorable younger brother.”

Kaien announced with a flourish, pointing first at the youngest Shiba, and then at Ichigo. Letting a smile sit lightly on his lips (one that had been reserved solely for Karin and Yuzu), Ichigo extended a hand forward in greeting.

Ganju studied Ichigo with scrutinizing eyes for a moment, and Ichigo reflected that children were often far more intelligent than they seemed. Nodding once to himself, the kid stuck out his hand and shook Ichigo’s own in a firm grasp.

“Nice to meet you,” Ganju chirped, voice so different from the one Ichigo knew, that he almost did a double-take. Instead, he silently screamed in his head, much to Shiro’s amusement. Shaking the smaller hand within his own, Ichigo solemnly replied with all the grave haughtiness of any noble, “And you as well.”

Ganju laughed at Ichigo’s obvious overly solemn words, and he traded a wink with the kid before sinking into the monstrous pile of pillows Kaien had pushed him into. The Clan Heir looked particularly pleased with himself and was sharing an indiscernible look with Kūkaku, who was rolling her eyes in fondness or exasperation (it was hard to tell with the Shiba princess and Kaien).

“So, are you going to join us for dinner, Ichi?” Kaien asked, with a grin, as he tacked on his new nickname for Ichigo at the end. Ichigo released a long-suffering sigh (though really, he was far too used to the nickname already, and at least it didn’t correlate to berries) and nodded.

The Clan Heir beamed at this, like a puppy being told they were going for a walk. Ganju too smiled happily, likely intrigued by the stranger in their home (and come on, Ichigo's orange hair had attracted and been grabbed by children far too often).

“Guess what, Ichigo?” Ganju said, turning shining eyes on Ichigo (and no, despite what Shiro said, he did not just melt). 

Damn, he had almost forgotten what it was like to deal with a younger sibling. It sent nostalgia and a faint warmth thrumming through his chest as he questioned enthusiastically, “What?”

“I helped make most of the dinner tonight,” Ganju announced proudly, puffing his chest out, hands at his hips. 

Ichigo grinned at the announcement, slightly surprised but also inordinately pleased as he chimed in, “Really? That’s quite impressive. Do you always help cook?”

The youngest Shiba nodded at the question with a proud grin that stretched from ear to ear. Kaien traded a happy look with Ichigo before he prompted Ganju to continue regaling them with his story about the boars in the marketplace.

Eventually, Ganju finished, slightly breathless and eyes wide with excitement. Ichigo was still grinning - there was something just plain  _ nice _ about sitting with family and not having to worry about the next battle. Suddenly, the younger Shiba cocked his head and stared at Ichigo for a moment before asking, “Ichigo, do you have any stories to share?”

Ichigo furrowed his brow at the question, searching for a story he could easily tell Ganju - one that wouldn’t reveal too much or force him into another flashback. Rubbing a hand under his chin, Ichigo hummed in thought for a moment before he brightened with an idea.

“Once there was a scientist, and he was an amazing scientist. Could fix up whatever machine that the nobles around him fancied. But he was lonely and wanted to create something amazing, something extraordinary. So, one dark and stormy night, the scientist…”

Ichigo continued the retelling of Frankenstein in vivid detail, Ganju listened with riveted attention. It made a knot in his chest, a knot tight with the ache of his memories, that he hadn’t even known existed, relax so he could breathe a little easier again.

Eventually, Ichigo finished the tale, slightly out of breath himself. Kaien beside him cast a few questioning, and concerned looks Ichigo’s way but remained quiet, a half-interested smile slipping onto his lips at the story. Ganju’s eyes glowed as he grinned like a maniac and happily exclaimed, “That was amazing! Do you know other stories, Ichigo?”

Ichigo cocked a brow at the question and proceeded to emote thinking in over-dramatic movements as Ganju shifted antsily, a few seconds away from whining or pouting as he stared at Ichigo.

“I might,” He stated after another minute. Ganju looked up, eyes impossibly wide at his words before a pout filtered onto the kid’s features and he whined about how mean his new elder brother was being to him. Ichigo laughed at the kid’s response and reached over to ruffle Ganju’s hair with a wink.

Ganju giggled and playfully swatted away Ichigo’s arm. Ichigo crossed his arms dramatically across his chest with a pout. The youth stared dubiously at him for a moment before Ichigo winked and Ganju started laughing, while Ichigo huffed a quiet laugh beside him.

Eventually, the laughter died down, and Ichigo’s chest felt lighter than it had in a while; when he hasn’t even realised it was heavy in the first place. Ganju, as he sat across from Ichigo, was grinning brightly, and out of the corner of his eyes, he could just catch Kaien’s fond gaze.

The youngest Shiba paused suddenly then, brows furrowed before suddenly popping to his feet as if an invisible bulb had lit above his head. Ichigo quirked an eyebrow at the action, vaguely wondering if he would be forced to play hide and seek.

Ganju just pointed at the kitchen and fixed Kaien with a certain stare, with all the simple bluntness of a child (and likely Shiba genetics) Ganju declared, “I like Ichigo, we should keep him.” Possible alternative: Ganju swivelled towards Kaien, fixed him with a level stare and with all the simple bluntness of a child (and likely Shiba genetics), declared, “I like Ichigo, we should keep him.”

The kid then proceeded to nod to himself, obviously very proud of his words. Kaien caught his little brother’s eyes and nodded seriously, appeasing the youth who beamed and then darted away in the supposed direction of the kitchens.

Ichigo blushed at the kid’s words, having expected nothing of the sort from the youngest Shiba, nor Kaien’s easy agreement to the sentiment (though he supposed it was just to appease Ganju). Shifting slightly on the mound of pillows, Ichigo was faced with an equally happy Kaien, who was all radiant eyes, and eager quirked lips.

“How are you feeling Ichigo?” Kaien asked, still grinning like a loon, as he had inched closer while Ichigo had been lost in his thoughts, but had thankfully stayed a good distance away. Ichigo couldn’t help the nervous tenseness that coiled within his muscles the moment anyone was within a foot of him. He half-hoped that some of the ingrained instinct wouldn’t act up around familiar presences, or those he knew to be harmless. But Ichigo wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to take the chance and risk hurting the Shiba heir.

When Ichigo had timidly brought up this concern to the lieutenant and had seen Kaien’s bright visage waver for a split moment. Gone had been the calm rain, and in its place like through the glance out of a window, Ichigo caught a split-second's view of a great tempest. The lieutenant had accepted Ichigo’s request with relative ease, refraining from prying and had cautioned the servants in the mansion accordingly.

Ichigo was thankful, so very thankful that the Clan Heir hadn’t pushed, because if Kaien had asked, really delved into the issue, Ichigo would have told him  _ everything _ . And he couldn’t do that. Not now, when he needed to stay strong and focus on the future. Not when there were too many variables at play, and not when it would irrevocably burden Kaien.

So, he had stuck to half-truths, and though Kaien had obviously known there was something more behind the words Ichigo hadn’t said, he hadn’t pressed. Ichigo liked the elder Shiba immensely for the fact alone, if not for the way everything just seemed lighter when the energetic lieutenant was around. As if the weight of Ichigo’s future and his past wasn’t quite so heavy anymore.

A hand, a good distance away, waved in front of his eyes, jerking him back from his thoughts. Ichigo smiled sheepishly at the amused face Kaien was sporting and abashedly rubbed the back of his head before attempting to recall Kaien’s question.

Everything felt so confusing. His mind felt like a myriad of scattered thoughts as if a great whirlwind had picked up and thrown them every which way. He was left stuck between the past and the present, trying to categorize events along a non-linear timeline, while focusing on healing at the same time. If not forZangetsu’s unwavering support, Ichigo would have fallen into a great disarray years before.

“I’m feeling a lot better, if still a bit sore and drained, and I should be better in roughly another week or so. Unohana seemed insistent on rest for two weeks though. I’m sorry to be imposing upon your hospitality like this. Thank you very much for all you have done,” Ichigo stated, bowing his head in gratitude, and focusing on his hands rather than their reactions. After a long moment, he glanced up and caught Kaien’s surprised expression. Kaien, in well-coordinated movements, reached over and gently ruffled Ichigo’s hair. For a second, Ichigo wanted to gawk at the gesture, and maybe bask in it before, with a slightly mischievous grin, he reached up and lightly swatted at Kaien’s arm where it was still hovering overhead.

The lieutenant pouted and pulling on his best sad face, gingerly cradled his arm to his chest as if having received a great wound. Ichigo snorted and shook his head in amusement at the overdramatic actions. He would expect nothing less of the family Isshin was from (and yes, he had just done the same thing. But he tried not to deny his heritage these days.)

“You’re not a burden Ichigo, we’re happy you’re here. How was your meeting with Unohana taicho? I know she can be a bit terrifying,” Kaien said suddenly. Ichigo blinked a bit in confusion at the words, because why would they be happy he was here? He was just a kid with PTSD and a touch of dark humour. But looking up, Ichigo saw that Kaien was still staring at him, waiting for his response with sincerity. Looking away, Ichigo looked away and fixing his eyes on the bright red of Kūkaku’s kimono,

Answered, “A bit? Unohana taicho was very kind and completely terrifying.” Ichigo replies as the Shiba princess grinned at Ichigo, and he stoutly refused to blush and there was no red on his cheeks because he was past getting embarrassed by women. Nope, no red on his cheeks at all. Kaien’s happy laugh and Shiro’s raucous laughter in the background disproved Ichigo’s words thoroughly. Shaking his head in resignation, Ichigo waved to the now giggling woman. Nodding to herself, Kūkaku shifted the stack of papers off her lap and sidled over to Ichigo, carefully pinning him in without touching him. In clearly visible, carefully coordinated, movements she slung an arm over his shoulder and leaned against his side. The orange-haired Shinigami shivered a bit at the touch and the heavy smell of gunpowder but otherwise did not give any visible proof of his unease (if you discounted the running taste of iron on his tongue or flashes of crimson in his mind’s eye).

“So Ichi, I noticed you have a zanpaktou…?” Kūkaku began with a grin and eyes bright with curiosity, and Ichigo resigned himself to the younger Shiba’s questions (he honestly didn’t mind that much, he was proud of Zangetsu). It was weird though as he was used to an older mature Kūkaku, one who was defensive and abrasive. The Kūkaku squished against his side was much the same, but so very young and much less jaded, untouched by the pain of losing her beloved brother.

“Mm, they're called Zangetsu,” Ichigo answered, deciding he could reveal the name of his blade. He could feel Kaien’s interest like a veritable spot-light on him, but Ichigo ignored it in favour of watching the more innocent interest in Kūkaku’s eyes.

“You know their name already?” She asked enthusiastically, with all the awe of a child in her voice. Ichigo nodded easily, leaning back on the palms of his hands, Kūkaku made a small sound of wonder before she turned a boasting gaze to her elder brother. Kaien just scoffed behind Ichigo and shifted so that he was in front of the two of them, instead of hovering over Ichigo’s shoulder.

“Nee Ichigo?” Kūkaku asked easily, and wow, Ichigo’s heart had already been captured by the youngest Shibas. It wasn’t fair. Ossan’s deep laughter reverberated inside Ichigo’s mind, soothing his tense nerves, and filling his chest with a deep-seated warmth. Nodding, he gestured for the Shiba princess to continue. Kūkaku pursed her lips for a moment and after considering Ichigo for a moment, she asked, “Do you know how to cook?”

Before Ichigo could attempt to formulate an answer, Ganju bounced back into the room and it seemed to brighten with his mere presence. He quickly skipped over to the cluster of his siblings that had formed around Ichigo and settled on Ichigo’s left with a happy little grin. He held up both hands to Kaien, who nodded solemnly with a twinkle in his eyes before three pairs of curious eyes turned Ichigo’s way.

It was almost more nerve-wracking than some of the earlier Captains’ meetings. Almost, being the keyword, as few could ever match the Soutaicho for the world's scariest and most stressful stare. It was all in the eyebrows, Ichigo was sure (and he ignored the faint warmth of the fire that swept over his shoulders and roasted and crackled in his ears).

“I can cook a little bit?”, Said Ichigo, struggling to answer the question. It had been so very long since he had done any cooking beyond heating up rations over the fire but he remembered some of his mom’s recipes.

Ganju and Kūkaku shared a conspiratorial look over him, one that he totally caught, before Ganju piped up, “You really know how to cook, Ichi-nii? Can you teach me sometime? We have the best kitchens here, you should see them. Can I show you after dinner?”

“Yes. Probably yes, though I’m sure you’re quite excellent already Ganju. Really, if Kaien says it’s alright,” Ichigo answered with a soft amused grin. Man, he thought he had loved Ganju in his first life, but kid-Ganju was adorable and he was still a sucker for little siblings it seemed. Said little sibling grinned, hair bouncing around his head from under a too-large green bandana as he whispered a question to Kaien.

Kūkaku tugged on Ichigo’s shoulder, then, pinning him with hawk-like eyes, she said, “We have a huge library and sparring room at the compound, Ichigo. If you’re feeling well tomorrow, I can show you around. And you should come with us to Rungokai! They have so many cool stores, and there’s this tea shop that has a blend of cinnamon and cocoa.”

The orange-haired Shinigami’s lips curved up softly at Kūkaku’s enthusiasm, at both of the Shibas' enthusiasm. He could see what they were trying to do - it was visible in Kaien’s gentle encouragement, in the traces of love in their eyes (and it had taken Ichigo a while to recognize it, and he was still utterly baffled by its appearance). But he couldn’t tear himself away from this warmth, to leave like a whisper in the night.

He needed the peace, the quiet, the warmth that saturated every room of the Shiba compound, even if only temporarily. Then he could face the real world and the storm that seemed to brew across his temples at the mere thought of his existence in the past. So Ichigo nodded and wondered at Ossan’s gentle amusement, and the faint sense of satisfaction from his hollow counterpart.

The Shiba siblings shared simultaneous grins, and Ichigo, in some vague part of his mind, knew that he was doomed. Ganju shook his head then, jumped to his feet, and with hands planted at his waist announced, “Dinner should be ready to serve now.”

Ichigo laughed softly at the way the kid had dramatically announced it and carefully rose to his feet before extending a hand to the Shiba Princess. Kūkaku took his hand with a small smile and let Ichigo carefully pull her to her feet even as she rolled her eyes at Kaien’s overdramatic wailing at being left on the ground.

Ganju huffed, and planting his hands on his hips, he stated, “If you want to enjoy a piping hot dinner, we’d better start soon.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry, otouto!,” Kaien stated in an overly repentant tone and earned a scorching glare from Ganju, who then proceeded to glance pleadingly at Kūkaku. Kūkaku huffed, stalked forward, wrapped her hand around Kaien’s arm in a vice-like grip and proceeded to tug him in the direction of the dining room.

Ichigo grinned at Ganju and followed the kid towards the dining room as he asked, “Are they always like this?”

“Not always. Sometimes they scream at each other, or gang up on me,” Ganju admitted with a heavy sigh, as they stepped into the dining room where the servants were placing the last of the dishes on the large oak table. Ichigo felt his mouth watering just at the sight of the many dishes - bowls of rice, with the rising steam perfuming the air, slices of beef layered elegantly over noodles, tempura, sashimi...Ichigo could get lost in the sheer number and decadence of the dishes on offer.

In the past, Ichigo had rarely dined with Nobles. Occasionally Shunsui had coaxed him into staying for dinner after one of their training sessions or Byakuya would force him into his home to take a, “break for Kami’s sake, Kurosaki,”, but for the most part, Ichigo ate field rations and whatever swill the mess would be serving.

So, to say that Ichigo found the food before him daunting would be an understatement. It would also be a massive understatement to say that the first bite of food was almost life-changing for him. Ichigo didn’t make a sound just paused and closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the flavour, the texture, the simple pleasure of eating.

“Are you okay, Ichigo?”, asked Kaien, disturbing Ichigo’s reverie. He blinked and opened his eyes, noting Kaien’s concern, he frowned self-consciously and replied, “It’s been a while since I’ve had such good food.”

Ganju beamed under the praise even as Kaien’s expression twisted to something pained. Ichigo frowned and continued to eat, pacing himself as he recalled well the pain of overeating when one’s body was still used to the bare minimum.

“So, Ichigo, do you have any plans as to what you want to do now?” Kūkaku questioned as she casually corrected Ganju’s table manners. Ichigo frowned, he had the long-term goals planned out, and they basically summed up to: No one but Bach would die. But in the short term? Ichigo wasn’t even certain where to begin - all he had was his zanpaktou and the knowledge of the future which though invaluable, was not particularly helpful in this case.

“I was considering enrolling in the Shinigami Academy,” Ichigo finally said with a shrug, because really it  _ was _ the only obvious choice. Being a Shinigami would allow him to get close to Aizen, the Vizard, all the Captains and Lieutenants he had once known,  _ and  _ give him the chance to stay active in the game rather than a passive-onlooker working from outside the stage, pulling invisible strings; after all, Ichigo had never been one for manipulation.

“Oh?” Kaien began and tilted his head, studying Ichigo with narrow eyes before he continued, “You already know the name of your zanpaktou and it will probably only take you a few years to graduate. Do you have a certain division you want to join?”

“Don’t mind him,” Kūkaku interrupted with a roll of her eyes and spearing a piece of tofu she continued, “Kaien thinks everyone joins for a noble cause with a certain Captain in mind after Ukitake-taicho, the Captain of the Thirteenth, saved us.”

“I really don’t know; I’d just like to be able to help people,” Ichigo stated and it was the truth for the most part - he wasn’t sure what division would be the best for him. Oh sure, he knew which ones he wanted to avoid and that was a start but it wasn’t an answer. Kūkaku nodded sympathetically even as Kaien pouted childishly at her and picked at his food.

After that, dinner was, for the most part, a quiet but comfortable affair. Ganju talked about his day, what he was learning with his tutors and why math was horrible, Kaien spoke about his day at work, the Hollows they had dealt with, Ukitake-taicho’s sickness, and Kūkaku spoke about her latest experiment with gunpowder. Ichigo sat quietly and forced himself to eat slowly, just listening to the hum of conversation.

Before he realised it, the plates were being carted away and Kūkaku was ushering Ganju towards the baths with a stern glare. Kaien leaned back in his chair and pulled out an elegantly carved pipe, lighting it with a match he produced from his sleeves. Ichigo’s nose wrinkled at the familiar acidic smell of tobacco as he studied the art on the walls in the silence between them.

“Ichigo,” Kaien began softly and Ichigo’s gaze was drawn inevitably to the man who was once his cousin, Kaien’s eyes were dark as he continued, “You’ve said you don’t have anywhere to go. I know we’ve only known you for a short amount of time, but I have a proposition for you. Both Kūkaku and I would like to uh… well that is if you want it, and of course, there’s no pressure, and you must understand what you’re getting into before you say yes,” Kaien paused and inhaled before he straightened staring straight into Ichigo’s eyes and said, “We’d like to invite you to join our family. Not just the Shiba Clan but our branch of the family. If you agree you would be our brother in all but blood, though I doubt you  _ don’t _ have any Shiba blood in you. Please remember Ichigo, there’s no pressure to say yes, and I’ll completely understand if you say no, and so will Kūkaku. Being a Noble isn’t easy, though being in the Shiba Clan is a little bit easier in some ways and a lot harder in others. But we want you in our family, not out of pity, not because we think you’d be a great asset, but because we like you, and genuinely want to help you.”

Ichigo rocked back into his chair staring at Kaien with wide eyes for a long moment as he attempted to process everything Kaien had said. Did they want to invite him to join their family? Sure, Ganju had mentioned it, but Ichigo had been certain that it was only the naive offer of an innocent child. But now, he could tell that Kaien truly meant it, that he really wanted Ichigo to join their family.

He couldn’t understand why. Why would they want a damaged adult with secrets a mile long, who had told them practically nothing of importance during his short stay? Did Kaien even truly understand what adopting Ichigo would mean?

A part of him wanted to accept. Wanted a family again, wanted to have the assurance that someone would be there to yell at him if he overworked himself if he was being an idiot if he needed someone to lean on. But while joining the Shiba family would provide him with a lot of power it would also endanger them. If Aizen’s plots worked out once more as it had in the past, he could target them even more viciously than before.

Ichigo glanced into Kaien’s eyes and he could imagine a thousand possible scenarios, a thousand universes where he said no or yes and the answer was clear. Ichigo inhaled softly and with a tentative smile, said, “Yes.”

X

Ichigo tugged at the collar of his kimono with a muffled sigh, he glanced around just to make sure no one was looking, or inevitably, judging his lack of propriety. There was only a lone vaguely familiar Shiba guard standing nearby and the man winked and Ichigo grinned back. Even after a month of lessons with a tutor on proper Noble conduct, mannerisms and the like, Ichigo still felt uncomfortable with all the pomp and circumstance. It did make him remember Yoruichi and wonder if she had been as uncomfortable with the rigid norms as he was. Maybe that was why she was more than happy to join Kisuke in Karakura Town.

Still, the whole celebration was in honour of his induction into the Clan and even if the Shiba Clan was certainly more lenient than other Clans, there was a certain amount of propriety expected even here. With a final inhale to control his nerves, Ichigo stepped back into the main hall. They had at least already dealt with the vows, the signing of important legal documents, and now all that was left was the socialising (if Ichigo thought of it as a checklist it was slightly easier to bear).

The room was awash in swathes of rich fabric and the glint of gold as the Nobles conversed with each other, using shallow hearts and silver tongues; and Ichigo hated it all. He plastered a smile on his face and searched for Kaien, who quickly appeared from within the sea of faces.

Kaien studied Ichigo for a long moment with narrow eyes before he asked in a whisper, “You okay, kiddo?”

“Not really, but I’ll survive,” Ichigo replied with a shrug and Kaien nodded, even though Ichigo could tell that he didn’t like it. Kaien looped his arm through Ichigo’s and guided him through the crowd, who parted slightly before them, offering their congratulations.

Kaien finally paused on the other side of the room in front of a small group of Nobles. Ichigo searched for a moment and had the vague sense of recognition but time had twisted it into the unknown.

“Good evening, gentlemen, this is my brother Ichigo Shiba. Ichigo, this is Ginrei Kuchiki Captain of the Sixth division and his grandson, Byakuya Kuchiki, who’s attending the Shinigami Academy. This is Jushiro Ukitake, Captain of the Thirteenth, and Kyoraku Shunsui, Captain of the Eighth,” Kaien introduced them each in kind and Ichigo abruptly felt like a complete and utter idiot, perhaps the peace was getting to his head, or maybe he really was in a dream, as part of him could not believe that in front of him were Byakuya, Jushiro, and Shunsui.

He could feel flashes of memory lingering at the edge of his thoughts and he viciously pushed them down as he sunk into a bow and tried not to stare at them. Byakuya looked so young! He looked like a teenager, one with emotions, who was staring, openly curious, at Ichigo. He was nothing like the Byakuya Ichigo remembered, not the cold and resigned Byakuya during his invasion of the Soul Society, or the one wearied by the war who would crack pointed jokes stiffly with Ichigo.

Shunsui and Jushiro were a whole different story. The two had become mentors to Ichigo during the war, they had practically taught him everything he knew. Here they were, so young (even though they were already old) none of the weight of the wars on their shoulders, the loss of Jushiro not yet touching Shunsui. It hurt just to look at them.

He could feel a thousand memories pushing forward, beating at his brain, threatening to leave him gasping for air. But all Ichigo could do was suck in a harsh breath, and use the support from Kaien’s hand around his arm to ground himself.

Ichigo had never met Ginrei but he could easily spot the resemblance and the perfect Kuchiki Noble mask in place as the man observed Ichigo.

“A pleasure to meet you all, thank you for attending,” Ichigo stated accompanied by another bow. He could feel Kaien’s tightening grasp on his arm and used it to once again force aside the flashes of their deaths which lingered on the edge of his consciousness. He already knew that he wouldn’t sleep tonight, had resigned himself to that and the knowledge that if they said the wrong thing, he would need to take his leave.

“Ma, Kaien has said you are considering attending the Academy?”, Shunsui asked with an easy grin and Ichigo nodded stiffly fingers lingering subtly on Zangetsu’s hilt as Kaien interjected proudly, “He’s already enrolled, I think they’re placing you in the second year after your examination, right?”

Ichigo nodded and Byakuya suddenly looked excited, the expression showing openly on his face was disconcerting even as he could feel the adults’ study him with interest. Ichigo shifted uncomfortable with the attention, and being in the presence of people who he knew well but didn’t know him. Kaien noticed, he always noticed; he’d become incredibly perceptive when it came to Ichigo’s triggers.

“It’s been lovely talking to you all, but unfortunately Ichigo has to say hi to a minimum of ten people tonight,” Kaien said in an airy tone as if Ichigo wasn’t going to have a panic attack in the middle of the room. Jushiro and Shunsui traded a glance studying Ichigo in concern even as Ginrei nodded in acceptance and Byakuya stated, “Hopefully, I’ll see you at the Academy.”

“Fingers crossed,” Ichigo replied weakly with a shaky grin and let Kaien tug him away and through the crowds before pulling him onto a balcony. The night air was cool against his overheated skin as Ichigo sucked in a shaky breath and leaned against the wall behind him.

“I can’t do this,” Ichigo murmured under his breath, staring at his hands in the faint moonlight as Kaien sat down behind him with a heavy sigh. Ichigo could feel him staring but refused to glance over as he looked out across the lush grounds and resisted the urge to adjust his collar.

“You’re doing fine. The ideal Noble is stiff and silent so trust me you’re doing pretty well,” Kaien said, half-serious and half-joking. He reached out in carefully telegraphed movements to rest his hand carefully over Ichigo’s; never trapping him.

“It’s not that, I can’t do this,” he gestured around him and continued, “all of this, pretending my past doesn’t exist, that I can just go to school, become a Shinigami and everything will be fine. It’s not going to be, everyone I meet and everything I see reminds me of all that I have lost, that it's  _ gone. _ I know I need to keep moving forward but it’s - it’s difficult,” Ichigo finished quietly, tucking his knees to his chest and resting his head on them still trying to calm his breath.

“Ichigo,” Kaien began, sounding lost before he inhaled and continued, “Your past doesn’t define you, it’s a part of you. Kami knows it may be a big part, but it’s not you, you get to define how you’re going to live in the present. The past will always be present, but it doesn’t define it. I’ll be honest, there’s only so much I understand and can do to help you, but whatever you need I’ll be there for you, even if it’s for me to ramble for hours, or to defend your honour. I’ll be there, I promise..”

“Thanks,” Ichigo replied and bumped his shoulder against Kaien’s, the man grinned back, his eyes near luminescent in the darkness of the evening. Ichigo tilted his head back for a moment and just breathed when it became too much, he’d rely on Zangetsu, on Kaien, and he’d keep moving forward. His past was the key to the future and even if it had teeth, Ichigo would use it to save everyone.

“You still have to talk to seven people, because I’m not lying to Kūkaku,” Kaien reminded Ichigo wryly, ignoring Ichigo’s glare as he rose to his feet. Ichigo stared up at Kaien for a moment before he took the outstretched hand and let Kaien pull him to his feet.

“Don’t introduce me to any assholes,” Ichigo said in a warning tone and Kaien chortled, and led him back inside the stifling room. Ichigo glanced once over his shoulder at the night sky before he let polite society devour him once more.

X

That night Ichigo dreamed.

The dream at first was familiar. The streets of Soul Society spread out before him as Ichigo walked forward, aimless, endless, with the destination unknown. The dream shifted around the edges, blurring into the grey, with flashes of the war-torn Soul Society of his past and the perpetual exhaustion of war. Then, in between one moment and the next, the dream shifted into a memory.

Ichigo was in the outer region of Rungokai and it was deserted - all the citizens had fled or died early in the war, leaving burnt-out husks as the only evidence that they even existed. All that remained, were the modified Hollows from the last war which lumbered about, wreaking havoc on any innocent souls who ventured nearby. It was supposed to be a routine mission for him and Byakuya, Ichigo recalled that much, a reconnaissance to ascertain if Bach was making a move on the outskirts of Soul Society.

They quietly picked their way through the ruins, with Byakuya a steady presence at his side, studying their surroundings with a general air of distaste. Ichigo listened to the hum of Zangetsu’s blade and asked, “Have you heard from Renji lately?”

“No, he’s been given mourning leave, though I don’t believe he would accept it, so the Soutaicho forced him to volunteer in communications,” Byakuya replied softly, his eyes surveying their surroundings. Ichigo tensed for a moment, spreading out his reiatsu but couldn’t sense anything; though they should probably keep their guard up nevertheless..

“Probably for the best, their anniversary would have been this week,” Ichigo said the last part under his breath, thinking of Rukia arguing with him about whether or not she should have her wedding in the middle of the war. He hadn’t been against it, but she had just wanted someone to argue against for old time’s sake. They were all tired, shells of themselves, going through the motions and pretending to be who they once were as if the war hadn’t already taken everything from them.

Byakuya nodded, his expression was still the perfect Kuchiki mask but Ichigo had learned to read beneath it a long time ago and could see the same grief he felt every time he thought of Rukia. Something creaked in the distance and wordlessly they drew their zanpakuto.

Ichigo prayed it was nothing but a few mutated Hollows, difficult to deal with but not deadly (not since Aizen had stopped producing them). But, with his history of bad luck, it should not have been a surprise that it was not a few mutated Hollows. Out of the tree line stepped a sea of Quincy soldiers, their coats glinting white, too white, in the grey of the wreck. At the head of the Quincy was As Nödt, the man’s (if he could even be called that) eyes centred first on Ichigo and then on Byakuya. Ichigo shivered, feeling chills run down his spine as without words the Quincy summoned their bows; it was an ambush, of course.

The battle was a blur, in the way all the battles had melted into one another, trickling from one move and warping into a different time, a different battleground. But the ending was always the same.

The end always started with As Nödt laughing, the feeling of fear consuming him, the ending which had become all too real, paralysing him; they died, they all died. Ichigo broke free of it, but it was too late, he watched as As Nödt’s blade cut through Byakuya, someone was screaming, it was him wasn’t it?

The next bit was equally blurry, he saw as if from a distance, Zangetsu’s blade sinking through As Nödt’s skull, right between those eyes. Then he rushed towards Byakuya, the ground stretched and stretched beneath his feet until he fell to his knees.

There was no resurrection this time, not after they killed Kisuke, Mayuri tried, but the best he could do was zombification and that was temporary. Ichigo reached out, listened to the harsh gasp of Byakuya’s breath, the blood staining his Shihakusho; it still felt so vivid.

He heard, as if from a great distance, the words, “Take care of Renji”, with a gentle hand on his cheek and he nodded. As Ichigo’s fingers felt Byakuya’s fluttering pulse, Byakuya coughed weakly and continued, “And yourself Ichigo, you are all that we have left. I-I can’t say that I’m sorry to go.”

Ichigo replied, “I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

Byakuya went still, the kind of stillness of death, his hand slid from Ichigo’s cheek, the moment was slow, suspended as if in glass, crystal clear as the tears which streamed down his cheeks. The memory blurred there, Ichigo remembered holding Byakuya’s body and sobbing, remembered the Soutaicho, the funeral pyre (they learned a terrible lesson), he remembered the taste of ash on his tongue, the squelch of the grass beneath his knees, the emptiness at night.

And then, Ichigo woke up.

He curled against the wall tucking his knees into his chest as he sucked in a harsh breath, the memory lingering and he swore he could see blood on his hands, Byakuya’s blood, the blood of all those who he had failed to save. Ichigo sucked in a ragged breath but couldn’t get enough air, sobs building and catching in his throat as Ichigo wiped uselessly at his eyes, one hand lingering on his cheek in the parody of an embrace.

The door creaked open, Ichigo sucked in a rattling breath and glanced at the door as a voice stated, “Ichigo, did you have a bad dream?”

“Yeah I did, Ganju. Did I wake you?” Ichigo asked, hiccupping for air and peering at the blurry shape of Ganju standing in the doorway, the oil lights in the hallway cast strange shapes and made strange bedfellows of his imagination (they all learned to fear the shadows).

“Nah, Kūkaku didn’t catch me sneaking a bit of coffee and I can’t sleep now,” Ganju explained with a shrug, he paused for a moment before Ganju walked inside, shutting the door behind him with a click and questioned, “Is everything okay, Ichigo?”

“Not really, but they’re just memories and they can’t hurt me now,” Ichigo stated, wrapping his arms around his chest as Ganju carefully crawled into his bed settling beside him so they could both stare at the expanse of his room, in the darkness, the furniture appeared strange, twisted shapes as if something out of a dream.

“I hate bad dreams, but memories must be worse,” Ganju said leaning his head against Ichigo’s shoulder as he yawned, Ichigo tensed for a moment before he forced himself to relax. He stared down at Ganju for a long moment.

“Sometimes we learn to live with the bad, even when it hurts,” Ichigo said glancing out the window before he added, “It’s those bad times that make the good stand out, make it brighter. It shouldn’t be that way, but it is sometimes.”

“Well then, what’s a good memory?”

Ganju asked, staring up at Ichigo as if waiting for him to tell a story. Ichigo chuckled and stroked a hand through Ganju’s soft hair for a moment, before he began, “My friend, he was a very serious person who never smiled, a consummate Noble through and through, you know? Well, we found out it was his birthday and we decided to see if we could make him genuinely smile and it became this whole competition. I remember my one friend decided to make a cake, but the truth of the matter was he couldn’t bake, and we really didn’t have cooking supplies on hand so he went to the Mortal World and bought one. His sister, who couldn’t draw at all, like she was absolutely horrible, decided to make him a heartfelt card, the problem is her brother, the birthday dude, was just as bad at drawing, and only nodded stoically.”

“So, what did you do, Ichigo?”, asked Ganju with a voice heavy with sleep. Ichigo smiled softly and carded his fingers through Ganju’s hair before he finished, “Well, I knew my friend had a really bad sense of humour though he liked to deny it, so, while he was working I dropped by and started talking to him, and I just fit as many puns into the conversation as I could. At first, he glared, but then I said a particularly clever one about cherry blossoms and he smiled, it may have helped that I also brought a bottle of sake, which was his favourite.”

When Ichigo glanced down at Ganju he was asleep. Ichigo smiled, trailing his fingers lightly through Ganju’s hair as he yawned, he rested his head on top of Ganju’s and let his eyes slide, he focused on the good, the memories that had made it all worth it and let sleep claim him once more.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Sorry if that last part was confusing, it was a dream so it was bound to be a little loose. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I know I’m changing some details from the original but it’s hopefully to create a better fic over all, a lot of my earlier writing bounces between light and dark and I tried to ground that in the characters this time. Anyways, comments are always appreciated, I’ll try to post a new chapter at least once a month but no promises.


	4. Solivagant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solivagant  
> (adj.) wandering alone.  
> Hello everyone, we are back with another chapter! A huge thank you to everyone for the positive comments on the last chapter. Someone mentioned that this could be its own fic and I just wanted to say that while I am changing some things to make the characters truer to canon or altering events, a lot of the plot points will remain the same and will hopefully be better because of it. Also apologies this took a while, this year has been beyond strange. We’re finally heading to the Shinigami Academy and might see some familiar faces. Read on and enjoy!

X

Ichigo hesitated as he stared at the gates of the Shinigami Academy which appeared to loom threateningly in front of him. Part of him wanted to turn around and leave, maybe go back to the Shiba mansion and spend the rest of the day helping Ganju tend the gardens.

The rest of him was all too aware of what he needed to do, who he needed to be if he was going to prevent what he had lived through from happening again. Being a Noble might provide him with some leverage, but it wouldn’t put him in the heart of the action, nor would it allow him to actually sway the Captains into acting.

So, the Shinigami Academy. Honestly, Ichigo knew the Academy wasn’t bad, for the most part, Rukia had spoken of her time there with fondness, and before the war had kicked into high gear, he had even taught a few classes on adaptability or something similar.

He couldn’t say he was looking forward to lessons on reaitsu control or Kido considering his previous disastrous attempts. Still, there was some small mercy in the world, as the examiners had been more than impressed by his zanpaktou and allowed him entrance to one of the higher grades.

Ichigo was certain he wouldn’t be able to sit through more than a few of the basic classes but as long as he graduated that would be enough.

Ichigo glanced at Kaien who was standing in front of the gates swinging one leg back and forth and studying Ichigo with an excited grin.

“All ready? I’ll show you to your dorm, help you get settled in and then you’re on your own,” Kaien stated and glanced over his shoulder at the gates before adding, “I remember when I first attended, it feels like it was only yesterday and look at me now.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes and followed his cousin onto the school grounds. They were lush, manicured green lawns and the Academy itself rose like something old, ancient, like ruins. But Ichigo supposed that technically the Academy was  _ ancient, _ after all, Kyroraku and Ukitake both were students at one point which was nearly a thousand years ago.

A few students milling around the grounds gawked at Kaien who ignored them striding determinedly towards the building ahead. Ichigo sighed and followed behind feeling oddly like a kid following their mother to the Principal’s office.

The interior of the Academy was open, high ceilings, and long hallways with shoji doors allowing soft beams of sunlight to fall on the wood floors. Kaien glanced over his shoulder and must have caught something of Ichigo’s expression because he shook his head and added, “It’s a pretty old building, it might look nice but there’s no air conditioning. I would also recommend stocking up on candles, you never know when you might need a candle.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. When do classes start?” Ichigo replied with a shake of his head glancing briefly at the few students cluttering up the hallways.

Kaien hummed for a moment turning down a long corridor with paintings hanging on the walls and a high ceiling. He paused in front of one room and pulled out a key, he tilted his head and with a wink opened the door.

“Technically, the semester has already started but you’ve been given special permission- don’t frown at me you’ll scare off any potential friends, and I do want you to make some friends Ichigo. I get that you have the whole loner vibe going, I respect that, but honestly, a few trusted friends are worth its weight in gold. Of course, you’ll always have us if you need, Shiba stick together and all that,” Kaien rambled as he pressed the key into Ichigo’s hand with a wagging finger.

“I’ll make a friend,” Ichigo promised with a shrug because Kaien was right, as much as it might pain Ichigo to admit it. He would need allies, need people he could trust. There was a reason Aizen couldn’t succeed beyond the whole megalomaniac thing and it was simply that when you couldn’t trust those closest to you, well you become doomed from the start.

It also probably helped that as much as Ichigo was pained at the thought of all the friends he once had no longer knowing him, he wanted to meet them again, to be better if possible. He wouldn’t abandon Chad, wouldn’t let Orihime self-depreciate when she was so insanely amazing, he’d listen to Uryu, he’d talk to Rukia about her fears; that was if he ever got to meet them all again.

The point was, Ichigo would try it just might be hard considering how damaged he was, he had a good track record of making friends but the students at the school were immature, most of them were young and had no idea how the world worked, how cruel it could be.

Ichigo followed Kaien inside the room and paused for a moment observing the finely carved furniture, the splay of sunlight on soft sheets, and the wood warm beneath his feet.

“I know its not much, but well it should do for schooling at the least,” Kaien stated with a shrug swinging around to study Ichigo for a moment before he riffled through his sleeves and added, “You’ll receive an allowance it’s not much because food is already covered, though I don’t know if they can call the swill they serve here food, anyways it should be enough for excursions and the like.”

By which Kaien meant it would be far too much money for Ichigo to know what to do with it. He would probably just hold onto it until a worthy cause appeared.

Kaien made a triumphant sound and pulled out a rolled-up sheet of paper and delivered it dramatically into Ichigo’s hands with a wide grin.

“Your schedule, I think the Headmaster might even be sending someone to show you around the school. Who knows, special circumstances and all that,” Kaien mocked with a teasing grin as Ichigo unrolled the sheet glancing over the classes, Kido (great), Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, along with classes on Shinigami duties such as Soul Burials and paperwork.

Ichigo nodded noting that he had a few classes tomorrow morning but none scheduled for this afternoon which at least gave him time to settle in. Kaien peered over his shoulder at the list and made a few noises of agreement or disgust as he added, “Shibari-Sensei is pretty mean but he appreciates diligence, watch out for Shihoin-Senpai she’s nasty but an excellent teacher.”

“Thanks,” Ichigo grunted glancing around the room, for however many years it took him to graduate the academy, he was planning on less than five, this would be his home.

Kaien rolled his eyes at Ichigo staring at the room beside him for a minute before Kaien sighed and said in a softer tone, “It might be hard to settle in at first, Kami knows kids can be cruel, people can be cruel, but if you surround yourself with good people the years will fly by,” Kaien whirled around for a minute stalking around the room before he pinned Ichigo with a smile and said, “Besides, you can come home and visit anytime. In fact, you probably should or Ganju will come to visit you and the Kūkaku will be worried and I for one have a reasonable fear for my life.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ichigo replied, glancing at his hands, at Zangetsu sheathed at his side before he added, “And I’ll come and visit.”

Kaien sniffled in his typical over-dramatic manner and it looked for a moment like he might try and force Ichigo into a hug before he sobbed out, “My little brother, off to school.”

Ichigo groaned and debated the merit of slamming the door in Kaien’s face. It would be so satisfying but then he would have to listen to him whine.

Kaien huffed muttering about feeling unappreciated before he planted his hands on his hips and added, “It’s true though Ichigo, Ganju and Kūkaku don’t care for Shinigami business,” Kaien stepped closer and planted a hand on Ichigo’s arm, he stiffened and carefully exhaled as Kaien continued, “I know you’ll be fine, be smart Ichigo, don’t do anything I would do okay?”

Ichigo nodded and carefully rested his fingers over Kaien’s, whose face softened ever so slightly into something warm, like melted butter, or hot concrete beneath your heels.

“Well I’ll leave you to it, remember if you need anything you can always send a letter or even send a Jigokuchō if necessary,” Kaien stated, the tenderness gone as he wheeled towards the door and paused in the threshold.

“Thanks,” Ichigo said with a wave of his fingers trying to communicate all that he meant in that one word and hoping it got across. A part of him, the one that never knew when you might see someone again, never knew which words might be your last, wanted to say more but Ichigo’s voice was thick with emotion clogged uptight like a seal.

Kaien nodded and with a final wave, he was gone leaving Ichigo alone. He turned for a moment just observing the room again before he grabbed a piece of paper off the desk and a pen and settled onto the ground. He’d prefer to carve it into the wood but a piece of paper would work for the moment.

See, the thing was Ichigo has never been good at Kido and there were even a few good reasons for that. Namely, that Ichigo had far too much reaitsu and so any Kido spell below a certain level would inevitably explode. Not even the combined force of Tessai, Hachi, and Kisuke could teach him how to properly do any of the lower level Kido. Maybe if they had taught him when he was a kid before his reaitsu had properly grown to massive amounts he would be okay, but well manipulating geniuses.

However, the higher Kido? The ones that took forever to chant and massive amounts of reaitsu? Those he could do if he was given a few solid minutes; he generally didn’t rely on Kido in battle.

For the most part, the Kido he did know was the kind that was useful during the war, sound barriers, shields, things to keep people out or in. The ones Ichigo planned on using were the types to keep sound in and intruders out; it was the only way he could sleep.

Inhaling, Ichigo scrawled out the basics of the Kido, a tip Hachi recommended because he had always been a bit of a visual learner and began the chant. The incantations were a low rustling thing, similar to the sound of wind through the trees.

He could feel the slight drain on his reaitsu as he finished the Kido, a springy yellow barrier lining the walls and shimmering once before it faded. The second incantation was longer as it involved specification and by the time he was finished, he felt almost out of breath or at least parched as an orange Kido barrier stuck to the walls before it too faded away.

Ichigo rose to his feet with a groan and ignored Shiro’s chiding about him getting old as he flopped back into the chair at the desk. He reached forward and skimmed his fingers gently over the walls and felt the Kido spark beneath his fingertips. It sets a part of him at ease and his shoulders slumped as he let out a long exhale.

Someone knocked on the door.

Ichigo was tempted to ignore it, tempted to hide away in his room until tomorrow but his promise to Kaien was still fresh so he rose to his feet. The door slid open and Ichigo muffled a noise of surprise at the young Byakuya in front of him.

It was still strange seeing Byakuya so young, without the cold apathetic mask, without the hair jewellery or the sophisticated aura he wore like armour.

“Oh, its you!” Byakuya said with a grin and sketched a bow before he continued, “Good afternoon Shiba-san I was asked to give you a tour of the Academy if that’s alright with you?”

“That would be excellent Kuchiki-san,” Ichigo replied plastering something like a smile onto his face because a part of him definitely still wanted to retreat and maybe curl up into a little ball. He kept seeing Byakuya, the one he knew superimposed in front of this young eager  _ kid _ blood on his lips and a sword through his chest.

Byakuya nodded and stepped out into the hallway with a wide grin and Ichigo would also like to mention how weird this all was. He followed Byakuya down the hallway as he stated, “This hallway is most of the dorm rooms, we’re on the first floor while the citizens share in the rooms above, at least the ones that can pay to board.”

They entered a large room filled with long tables and chairs at each, in the back of the room he could see what might be the kitchen, it reminded him of American movies, of cafeterias, as Byakuya confirmed, “This is the mess hall, all of our meals are served here. They approved new funding recently so the food is much better than it was a few years ago. It’s all supposed to be nutritious or something because the Twelfth says it's better for reaitsu,” Byakuya shrugged and then added, “It’s open all the time so if you’re ever hungry you don’t have to go to the Rungokai, though I’ll admit, and please don’t tell my Grandfather, that there are some interesting street foods, what about you Shiba-san do you like street food?”

Ichigo wished he had a camera to show Byakuya this, to say  _ look how talkative you were.  _ But he couldn’t so instead he settled for replying, “Yes, my friends used to love it.”

“Used to?” Byakuya asked with a tilt of his head as he led Ichigo into a different hallway, one with a few open doors looking into lecture halls; Ichigo felt a sudden pang for the education he had to abandon to save the world.

“They’re all gone,” Ichigo replied and resolutely didn’t look at Byakuya, tried not to even really think about the words. He emptied his mind and focused on the lecture hall instead.

There was silence for a moment only interrupted by the sound of their feet against the floor before Byakuya said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ichigo lied, because it wasn’t okay, it would never fucking be okay. But that was fine in of itself. He was managing, he would learn to live with it eventually.

Byakuya studied Ichigo for a long moment with narrowed eyes before he added, “This is the lecture hallway, a lot of the more technical aspects of say Zanjutsu are discussed here and the practical is done in a different area. Can I see your timetable?”

Ichigo passed it over silently as they paused in front of a classroom. Byakuya studied it for a moment before he pointed out a few doors and said, “Zanjutsu is in that room there, Hakuda the one on the left, Hohō diagonal to that one, and Kido to the right. You’re lucky you don’t have any bureaucracy courses this semester. I have one on how to fill out accident/incident report forms. The basic introduction class is the one we’re standing in front of, it’s a boring but informative class. It looks like I have a few classes with you?”

Byakuya finished with a raised brow as they exited the lecture hall. Ichigo shrugged and replied, “I guess I impressed the examiners.”

“Well, I can’t complain, most of my classmates are rather dull, they’re all still focused on the glory of being Shinigami you know? They don’t care about what’s really important yet, protecting our friends and family,” Byakuya replied with a grin and Ichigo could only think how rich that was coming from Byakuya even as he nodded in agreement.

“This is where a lot of the practical stuff is taught, though Kido is usually taught in a separate room. For the most part, go to the lecture hall first unless told otherwise. Though if you look at your timetable certain days are scheduled for practical,” Byakuya added, pointing at a few of the rooms where a few students were practising.

Byakuya led him into another corridor with a few closed doors and added, “Most of the teachers’ offices are here if you need assistance. The Headmaster’s office is down that way, I wouldn’t upset him if I were you. Hey, you don’t really talk much Shiba-san.”

Ichigo thought of how to respond to that and decided on a shrug which earned an almost glare from Byakuya who rolled his eyes and continued walking.

“Anyways, that’s most of the Academy, if you have any trouble you can always ask a student, most of them are happy to help,” Byakuya added and began to lead them back towards a familiar hallway as he continued, “Do you know what Division you’re considering? I’m joining the Sixth.”

“Maybe the Eighth,” Ichigo replied with a shrug because he couldn’t imagine willingly working under his father (it was so weird to consider that his father was in Soul Society), nor could he imagine working with Kaien and not killing him, and working with Shinji felt like a recipe for disaster.

“Captain Kyroraku is lazy but a good man,” Byakuya responded with a hum pausing outside of Ichigo’s room he added, “I hope that was helpful.”

“Thanks,” Ichigo replied with a hint of a smile he couldn’t quite hide. Byakuya beamed as Ichigo opened the door with a click and for a moment there was a pause as they stared at each other.

“Good luck on your first day tomorrow,” Byakuya said and with a quick bow turned on his heels marching down the hallways. Ichigo watched him go for a long moment before he entered his room. With a sigh, he flopped onto the bed and prayed for a dreamless sleep.

X

Ichigo trudged out of basics with a yawn and the exhaustion of a summer day clinging to his shoulders as he glanced blearily at his timetable. After the first ten minutes, where the teacher proceeded to explain, in excruciatingly slow and explicit detail of how a Hollow came to be, he was done. Suffice to say, Ichigo tuned the rest of the lesson out and made sure to look like he was paying attention.

He had Zanjutsu next, a practical session, and with a barely audible groan, he ignored Shiro’s laughter and plodded down the hallway following the flow of students. The Zanjutsu classroom was a wide, open room with mats spread out along the floor and on the walls, which held racks containing bokken and a few katana.

Their teacher, a large man with a head of dark hair and a scar on his face, was seated at the front of the classroom sitting in seiza and watching the students file in. The man’s eyes narrowed upon spotting Ichigo and with a wave of his hand, he gestured Ichigo forward.

Resisting the urge to sigh once more (it was becoming a habit, or maybe a coping mechanism), Ichigo made his way up to the front ignoring the whispers of his classmates and the feeling of their eyes on the back of his head. He experienced it enough in his first class and basically all of his high school attendance. Honestly, in Soul Society his orange hair wasn’t even that strange.

“You must be the new student Shiba-san, I’m Professor Matsushita,” The teacher stated with a frown sizing Ichigo up. Could he see his scars? Tell that they were from battle? The man huffed and added, “Got any training?”

“Yes sir,” Ichigo replied simply and didn’t look away feeling oddly as if he was in the Eleventh division with all of its posturing.

The man looked Ichigo up and down one more time before he replied, “We’ll see about that. Dismissed.”

Ichigo nodded and sketched a shallow bow before he turned and spotted Byakuya who beamed, and welcomed him over with a wave of his hand. Ichigo glanced at the ceiling for a moment before with a sigh he walked over to stand beside him.

His stomach twisted as he glanced at Byakuya recalling yesterday’s rather unpleasant nightmares and a part of him, the one from yesterday, wanted to flee. Instead, he ground his teeth as Byakuya asked, “How was basic?”

“I took a nap,” Ichigo replied, watching as the last of the students filed into the classroom. Byakuya laughed and Ichigo had to pause for a moment to take that in even as the Professor coughed to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, alright calm down everyone I get it you’ve all been free for a whole day. We’re going to be going over what we talked about yesterday, anyone remember what that was?” Matsushita-san asked with a raised brow that stretched his scar.

“Block and parries sir,” A student piped up and Matsushita-san nodded, studying the classroom with narrowed eyes.

“Well now we’re going to practice it, everyone find a partner. I expect to see proper stances, and you all should know how to hold your katana, this is an advanced class for Kami sake. I will not hesitate to correct you,” Matsushita-san said, rising to his feet and glaring threateningly at each and every student. 

Byakuya glanced at him with pleading eyes and Ichigo agreed with barely a second of deliberation and a nod. Byakuya passed Ichigo a bokken and he weighed it in his hands for a moment before he asked, “What kind of blocks and parries did you learn about?”

“Mostly simple ones, but Matsushita-san doesn’t particularly care as long as we apply his lessons, namely never let your guard down, have a strong stance, and don’t underestimate your opponent,” Byakuya responded as he confidently swung his bokken in front of him and settled into a stance.

Ichigo mimicked the motion and waited, happy to let Byakuya make the first move. Byakuya lunged forward and Ichigo swung the bokken down intersecting the swing and the motion behind it throwing Byakuya off balance. He stumbled and with a glare adjusted his stance and moved into an overhead strike.

Ichigo almost felt bad for Byakuya, he was young, still inexperienced, his moves were clearly telegraphed and rather slow compared to what Ichigo was used to. The keyword though was almost.

He parried the strike and stepped back maintaining his distance. Byakuya frowned and for a moment it looked like he might let his frustration take hold before he inhaled and centred himself. His next attack was quicker and with less strength.

Ichigo stepped out of the way letting the motion carry Byakuya forward he swung his bokken down until it hovered over Byakuya’s exposed neck.

“Very good Shiba-san, try to attack so Kuchiki-san can practice too,” Matsushita-san said grudgingly studying him with a modicum of approval.

Ichigo nodded and raised his bokken watching as Byakuya straightened and demanded, “Why did you just move instead of block?”

“I knew it would leave you open, you don’t always have to block, but be warned if you do side-step an attack, against an opponent, retaliation can be imminent,” Ichigo said slipping back to when he taught Karin a bit of Zanjutsu, and then later trying to teach the new recruits as much as they could before the next battle.

“That’s the most I’ve heard you speak,” Byakuya said as they settled into stance once more, he shrugged. Ichigo inhaled and moved forward cutting his speed and strength until it was barely even a quarter of what he was capable of.

Their bokkens clacked together as Byakuya snapped his up quickly, almost surprisingly quickly. Byakuya grinned at Ichigo as he stepped back and lunged suddenly into an overhead strike. Byakuya fumbled to bring his blade up only for Ichigo to change mid-strike and bring his blade around to halt a few scant inches from Byakuya’s neck.

“Remember, never let your guard down,” Ichigo said as he stepped back and added, “An opponent will attack at a moment’s notice, regardless of what else is happening,” and then he attacked.

Byakuya cursed and stepped hastily to the side bokken in front of him. Ichigo grinned and let the motion carry him as he twisted and thrust the bokken through the holes in Byakuya’s defence. He cursed and tried to bat away Ichigo’s blade only to pause when Ichigo’s blade rested a scant few inches from his neck.

Ichigo could see frustration building once more as he stepped back. Rubbing a hand over his face, Ichigo sighed and added, “You can practice the moves a thousand times and that’ll give you the base but the only way you’ll learn to fight is by doing so with others.”

“Will you spar with me?” Byakuya asked panting for breath and staring at Ichigo with wide dark eyes, his hair a frizzy mess around his head. Ichigo opened his mouth to say no, really, he did. Then he thought of spending time with this young Byakuya, unburdened by the loss of Hisana, of how he could help him become stronger. Of how lonely it felt without the Shiba clan around.

“Okay,” Ichigo replied softly and watched Byakuya’s face light up.

A loud  _ crack _ sounded right next to Ichigo’s head and he flinched, snapping the bokken up to defend against an invisible foe, his breath tight in his chest and his reaitsu humming beneath his veins.

“Enough talking, more practice,” Matsushita-san said studying Ichigo with narrow eyes, he wondered if the man was familiar with PTSD and how loud noises weren’t nice. They nodded and the man marched off to  terrify,  correct another pair of students.

“Are you alright Shiba-san?” Byakuya asked and Ichigo raised a hand focusing on his breathing trying to tell his body that he wasn’t in danger, that he was fine, in, out, in, out.

“M’okay,” Ichigo said after a moment sucking in another rattling breath and straightening, willing his body to calm down as he added, “You can call me Ichigo, it seems we’ll be getting to know each other very well.”

“Then call me Byakuya,” he said with a smile, then added, “Are you sure you’re okay? If you want, we can take a break.”

“Maybe a few minutes,” Ichigo agreed and froze when someone’s hand wrapped around his arm. Ichigo tamped down on the urge to draw Zangetsu and detach said arm as he whirled around.

“Well look what we have here? A new student thinks he can jump up to Matsushita-san’s class, does he?” A student that reminded Ichigo of the thugs that used to hang around Karakura with bad haircuts and an equally bad attitude asked.

“Let go,” Ichigo grounded out fingers twitching towards Zangetsu, he could feel Shiro’s fury building up in his chest, and he was really not going to be responsible for what happened in the next few minutes.

“Yamada-san I would let go if I were you,” Byakuya stepped forward, the previously cavalier attitude gone and evaporated leaving only a grim expression. The student, Yamada, frowned glancing between Byakuya and Ichigo and then back over his shoulder where Matsushita-san was watching.

“We’ll show you later where you’re supposed to be,” Yamada barked like a dog with no bite and let go of Ichigo’s arm before he stalked off his lackeys following behind him.

Ichigo exhaled and his body untensed ever so slightly, he resisted the urge to make a dramatic comment about having nowhere to return to. Instead, he turned to Byakuya and said, “Thanks, I’m not really comfortable with touch.”

“I know you’d do the same for me, and he’ll probably be back,” Byakuya responded with a frown glaring across the room where Yamada was tearing down another student.

“I’ve seen his type before,” Ichigo added in agreement before he raised his bokken and settled opposite Byakuya and asked, “Ready to go again?”

“Teach me how you did that turn?” Byakuya asked and Ichigo nodded pushing away the lingering dregs of dread and lifted his blade. He would be okay eventually; he had to believe that. Maybe Byakuya would help, or at the very least he would distract Ichigo. It would have to be enough.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter; I know I changed their dynamic a bit but I wanted to more accurately reflect how Byakuya’s personality was shown in canon and also, I wanted to make things flow better. Comments are always super appreciated, till next time!


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